My Heart With You
by llynn20
Summary: Escaping the trauma of her past, Bella finds solace in solitude with the exception of a promise made to continue playing her guitar. Edward’s past seems to be catching up with him as well, but he finds himself running towards instead of away from it.
1. Chapter 1: Girl America

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

i.e. SM owns Twilight and all its characters; Twilight characters own me; ergo SM owns me. And she's falling behind on the upkeep.

For **KaeEllBlue** who inspires more than just me.

Much thanks to **NotEvenTheTrees** for having an awesome penname for starters.

* * *

Angela was crying, again. I believe she had gone through both of the small Kleenex packs that I happened to have in my messenger bag. She would have to fend for herself when she got inside the airplane. "Why does the time with you two always have to go so fast?"

Eric, Angela and I were standing together, the three of us holding hands in the waiting area of the airport. Usually sending Angela off wasn't as difficult, but we all knew this time was different. The next time we would all be together she would be a mother. But the potency of the farewell had diminished a bit, too; this was the third time we'd officially said goodbye in the past seven hours. We were all a bit exhausted at this point and it was getting late in the day.

Angela and her husband Ben resided in Seattle where they lived their own happily ever after. Ben worked for an airline and one of the perks was free stand-by tickets. The chances she'd be able to board were greater later in the day as planes were never full at night. She might also get a first class seat, affording her more room and comfort in what must be an uncomfortable flight for her to take to begin with.

"Shh, baby, I know," Eric sighed, placing a loving hand on her swollen belly. "We're really going to miss you too. These past ten days _have _gone too fast, but you have some nesting to do when you get home, remember?"

"And you two have your lives to get back to once I leave. It couldn't have been easy for you two social butterflies to be grounded with a pregnant lady around," she winked. Only Eric had missed going to the bars. I missed going out too, I suppose, but for a very different reason. I preferred coffee shops. I'd missed two week's worth of open mic nights while Angela was with us, given that she couldn't stand the smell of coffee. Since she couldn't go out to see me perform, I gave her a series of private concerts instead. They consisted of a few lullabies and some new instrumental material I'd been working on.

I started shivering when I thought of the last time I'd sung in the coffee shop. The performance itself had gone off without a hitch, but afterwards was another story altogether. Usually the short walk home was a safe one but Eric hadn't come with me that night. I had walked the two blocks home alone. And I had been robbed of my performance guitar by two men wearing layers of clothes with their hoods up. One was a short, slight man and the other was twice the size of my father Charlie. Thankfully they hadn't stolen _the _guitar. I shuddered again.

"I saw that, Bella," Angela took my elbow and turned me to face her. "I know that being mugged has taken a toll on you. Ben and I have been talking about it, and we both want you to come back home. Well, to Seattle at least. It is getting more dangerous here and Seattle is ranked the safest place to raise a family the past two years running. We have really low crime rates."

"Snooze," Eric interrupted and grabbed my free hand. "She loves being here with me, Angela. You have Ben and I need Bella."

I smiled at my two best friends warmly. "Angela, I'm just not ready to go back. Not yet. Even coming home for the baby's birth is going to be a big step for me."

They both nodded knowingly. "Charlie." Eric confirmed.

"I may even stop by Forks, yes," I shrugged. I hadn't felt too badly about avoiding my hometown until Angela had announced her pregnancy and asked me to be the baby's Godmother. The town itself had been a big part of my life for so long, but it wasn't something I wanted to return to. If only I could completely forget. So many things had gone wrong; my trust in so many, shattered. I had come to New York with Eric in the hope of forgetting all that happened there.

"Speaking of Forks, any word on the happenings with the Class of '06?" Eric inquired of Angela. I knew he was hoping for any gossip, any chance that a certain someone back home was still pining for him. Me? I could care less. I avoided all social network sites as I didn't want anyone, _anyone_,to know where I was. I was quite proud of my ability to drop off the radar. No one knew where to find me, and that was just how I liked it.

Angela, knowing this, shot me a furtive glance before saying in a low voice, "Well, there has been an interesting development in the Jessica and Mike saga…"

I smirked at her. "It's okay, Angela, you can speak up. It's not like anyone around here knows anyone from Forks or La Push." I knew she had news from La Push, and I would just have to suck up and hear it.

Eric shushed me, desperate for something juicy. "Please continue Angela. What about Jessica and Mike?"

"Jessica and Mike…" she paused far too long for effect, "are getting married. Again!" Eric gasped and I stifled a laugh. At this point, I wasn't sure if I was laughing at the news or Eric's reaction.

Jessica and Mike had a tempestuous relationship, at best. They married right out of high school. Jessica said she was pregnant and we all assumed that's why they were getting married. But we were wrong. It was a ruse that took us all in, including Mike. She was never pregnant to begin with. I wonder if Jessica used the same reason this time, or if there were actual feelings involved.

"Anybody else getting hitched?" Eric implored. Angela's eyes focused on me. I knew that look. It was the look that preceded an answer I didn't want to hear.

Without looking at my watch, I interrupted Angela and Eric's gossip session. "Isn't it time to check in again? I mean, the next flight was supposed to be leaving at about 8:30 and you have to waddle all the way to your terminal." Even though time was pressing, I felt badly for cutting her off.

"Oh, you're right." Angela's voice quickly became thick with emotion. "One more hug?" She turned to me. "Soon, I'll see you real soon. There was something I needed to ask you while I was here but for the life of me I cannot remember. Pregger brain." She shrugged.

"Yup, pregger brain." I nodded in agreement. It wasn't like my friend to be so scatter-brained, then again, she had a lot on her mind and was creating a small person at the same time.

"Before I forget," Angela said as she reached into her bag. "Here is your stand-by ticket for Seattle." She handed me my ticket. "I'm so glad you're going to be there when the baby's born…" she trailed off as a new set of tears began to form.

Eric sighed, "I'm so glad you didn't come to visit us during the second trimester, Ang. You would've been all horny and we couldn't have done a thing to help you." We all burst out laughing. He was always so good at knowing how to lighten the mood.

"I will miss you most of all, scarecrow," Angela giggled as she leaned towards Eric to give him a hug. She leaned closer to his ear to whisper something she didn't want me to hear. I allowed it as I had a feeling she wanted to share with him the news that she had begun before I had interrupted. She finished whispering and looked down. Eric looked at me, his face betraying the news and confirming my suspicion.

"Off you go," I said before anyone could keep looking at me with sympathetic eyes.

"Okay then, I'll let you know if I get on this time. Will you wait here?" She implored.

"Bitch, I have better things to do tonight. Of course we'll wait for you," Eric added quickly before Angela could possibly take him seriously.

Eric took my hand as we watched her walk to the escalator and out of sight. We blew Angela kisses until we knew she couldn't see us anymore. He pulled me into a warm embrace, knowing how hard this was for me. "Want to work on the crossword until she texts us the all clear?" He whispered into my ear.

"That sounds good," I sighed. Eric took my hand and led me outside to the nearest bench. The August night air was muggy and heavy in our lungs. I was so glad that I wasn't alone in New York. I knew he felt the same way. We fit into each others' lives well.

"Okay," I started, picking up where we left off earlier. "14 across, seven letters: 'mythical creature of the night, bloodsucker.'" This must've been the Times' gimme question so I began scribbling in: _V-A-M-P-I-R-E_.

"C-R-O-W-L-E-Y," was Eric's sad reply.

"Oh, Eric, I know," I dropped the pencil and newspaper in my lap and reached for his hand. "I know you wanted something to happen between you and Tyler. I hate to say this, but I think that, for him, what you two shared was more of an experiment in sexuality rather than a relationship."

"Bitch, an _experiment in sexuality_ was losing my vagina virginity to Lauren Mallory," he began, obviously reeling from the memory.

"You have _got _to stop watching True Blood. Only Lafayette can precede everything by saying bitch!" I laughed.

His eyes became infinitely sadder as his voice lowered. "I know, I know. It still hurts though, even after almost four years. I knew who I was even back then and just had a feeling that he knew, too. Not just about me, but about himself." Eric shook his head, as if the act would clear his mind of the painful memories. If that actually worked, my head would be shaking all the time. "One day he'll come crawling back to me when he realizes what it is he really wants, and I don't know if I'll make time for his closeted, albeit fine, ass."

Curiosity was getting the better of me and I asked before I could stop myself, "Was that what Angela told you before she left? Was it news about Tyler?" I knew that it wasn't about Tyler, whatever it was. They wouldn't have kept that from me. No, it had to be news about _him…_

_BUZZ BUZZ_

I started, realizing that it was a text and that it must be from Angela. The only other person who would text me is Eric.

_1st class seat! YAY! Flight 7811._

I smiled, relieved that she found a flight and a first class seat at that. Admittedly, I was anxious to get home before it got too dark. Given my recent nighttime encounters, I don't think anyone would blame me. We began packing up my messenger bag when my phone vibrated again with another text message.

_OMG WAIT!_

Eric read over my shoulder. "Wait? Why?"

Suddenly, an ambulance appeared in emergency lane in front of us with its lights on but without sirens. My mind started reeling into various unsavory scenarios. Was Angela okay? How did they get here so quickly? What was going on?

Eric scanned my face, which was probably ashen and rigid. Sensing my unease, Eric grasped my hand. "Don't assume that the ambulance is here for Angela, silly, she just sent you another text."

_Really cute doctor heading your way. I think I know him from somewhere. Do you?_

What? My panic attack was caused by an irrational pregnant woman jonesing for a hot doctor? And how was I supposed to know that he was, in fact, a doctor? Is he wearing a white lab coat? Did he have a circular mirror on his head and a stethoscope hanging from his neck? I had to sit down. Unbeknownst to Angela, I had almost begun hyperventilating fearing the worst news imaginable.

"Ohh. Cute doctor? Yes, I will wait for that." Eric started scanning the exits, rubbing his hands together in anticipation, unwilling and unable to sit down next to me.

With my head in my hands I muttered, "Her pregger brain strikes again. We don't know any cute doctors, Eric. The only doctor we all know is Dr. Gerandy back home and he was _not_ cute." I had spent a lot of time at Dr. Gerandy's office in Forks and his looks were not even the least bit appealing.

_BUZZ BUZZ_

_He is carrying a red cooler. Darn! Taxiing. Lemme know if you know him. TTYL._

I showed Eric Angela's message, knowing he would keep an eye out for the doctor with the cooler; I began fanning myself with the New York Times. I was holding onto the wrong edge of the paper, causing it to fall apart on the ground in front of us. As I stooped to pick it up, I read the loud headline: NIGHTTIME CRIME ON THE RISE IN MANHATTAN.

"Oh. My. God." Eric stated in what was intended to be a whisper but came out as a stifled scream. I looked up from the tangled mess of paper on the ground to see what the matter was.

Before us was _the _doctor, walking with apparent haste towards the ambulance that had parked not twenty feet away from us in the emergency lane. He was wearing navy blue scrubs and Ray Ban sunglasses despite the encroaching darkness, talking into a cell phone while his other hand held a cooler with the word _UNOS _inscribed on its side. We could plainly hear him giving instructions as he took long strides towards the ambulance. "No, Seth, you can return to the garage; the ambulance is here to retrieve me. Thank you." He fluidly stepped into the ambulance, taking a seat towards the back exit as he hung up his phone.

Illuminated only by the ambulance's fluorescent lighting, I could tell his hair was a striking bronze color. It was disheveled, yet purposefully so. His pale skin glowed in the light, but I could not make out the features of his face due to the sunglasses he continued to wear.

They began to depart at the same time as he was taking off his Ray Bans. The doors closed, and I could see him staring at us through its back window. I was too far away from the ambulance to be sure, but I could've sworn that the doctor was saying something to me.

He returned his phone to his ear as the ambulance turned on its siren and made its way out of the loading zone. He began shouting into his phone as well as at the ambulance driver. Two voices warred: one stating that they must stop while the other insisted that there was no time to lose. We followed the lights into the darkness, the whole scene lasting less than a minute.

"What was _that_?! How do you know him?" Eric insisted, turning towards me. "I _saw_ him saying something to you."

Catching my breath proved to be difficult. Finally I blurted out, "I have no idea Eric. I've never seen him before in my life." At least, I couldn't be sure. There was _something _about him.

Taking my word for it, Eric blindly reached for my hand. A smile slowly illuminated his face as he continued to stare in the direction the ambulance was heading. "That. Was. Hot." He grabbed some of the newspaper still scattered along the ground and began to fan himself in earnest. "I mean, you know, but still. Hotter than August in New York City."

Gathering my wits about me, I insisted that we leave immediately. It was dark now and with the darkness my sense of foreboding increased. Eric gripped my hand more firmly as I began to walk towards the tunnels. "Let's get a cab," he insisted, knowing just how great my fear was about to become. I nodded quickly.

A cab stopped in front of us and Eric slid inside. A black sedan pulled up alongside our cab, trying to get my attention. "Excuse me Miss, may I take you to your destination?" The driver of the black sedan called, slightly out of breath. I looked around me to see who he might be talking to. There was no one else, so I shook my head vehemently and got in the cab beside Eric. Before I could close my door I could hear the mystery driver call, "Please, Miss, I implore you!"

"Another friend of yours?" Eric asked. I looked at him, visibly shaken. He frowned and pulled me closer. I hid my head in his lap and he stroked my hair gently. "Of course he isn't. Any friend of yours would know your name was Bella, not Miss…" His voice trailed off, realizing that I was upset.

Eric gave me the silence I needed to think through what had just happened. _Who was that doctor? What is UNOS? Did he know me? Better yet, should I know him? Why was that driver trying so hard to get me to go with him? Was I blowing things out of proportion and merely jumping to conclusions? _

Fifteen minutes into our drive home, neither of us had said anything. "Eric, is the black sedan still following us?" I asked, my head still down.

Taking his eyes off of me for the first time, Eric looked around in the darkness. "I don't think so, honey. Do you want the cab to drop us off somewhere besides home, just in case?"

Realizing how silly I must be and just how unjustly irrational my fears were, I decided to sit up. "No, no, I'm getting tired. Let's go home." I glanced around, just to be certain. Charlie had raised me to be cautious, not a fool.

"Is there anything you want to talk about?" Eric offered. I knew I could trust him. Eric had never hurt me and had taken me in when I needed someone the most. But still. I wasn't sure what I needed to share. I shook my head.

"Thank you Eric, but no," I smiled weakly. "Will you text Angela and let her know that I didn't recognize the doctor?"

"Speaking of Angela, do you want to know what she told me before she went to her airport terminal?" Before I could shake my head again, he added, "It was about Jacob."


	2. Chapter 2: Today Has Been OK

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: **Thanks to **NotEvenTheTrees** for her mad beta skillz!

* * *

I had no more answers the next morning as I had the night before. Except one: I now know what _UNOS_ stands for.

"I've got it!" I could hear Eric call from his bedroom as I was just about to fall asleep. "Bella, I remember where I've heard of UNOS before! Remember back season two of Grey's Anatomy, when Crazy Izzie connives to get the heart for Dead Denny?" Of course I did, but I let him continue on his diatribe. "UNOS is the organ people! That doctor was taking a donated organ to a hospital!" He paused briefly, "And if I had been the Chief, there would be no way in hell Izzie Stevens could've had a second chance at being a doctor…"

I had a difficult time trying to sleep after that, deciding that softly playing "Angel from Montgomery" on Charlie's guitar for a few moments would help to soothe me and unravel the mess of my mind.

The morning came too quickly, but I needed to get to the market before the other produce managers did. I enjoy the early mornings, especially the time just before the sun gets up. I felt safest then and more alive than at any other time of the day.

"Good morning, Laurent!" I called from the sidewalk. Laurent was a shady character, to say the least. He would save good produce for me since I spoke to him in a respectful manner. And, even though I never attempted to haggle with him, he always gave me the best prices.

"Good morning to you, lady!" Laurent called back. He tugged on his ear, our secret signal that he had something special for me that day. It made me uncomfortable that he did it only for me, as if there was something that he would someday want in exchange. But my boss, Garrett, never had anything but the highest praise for my produce selection, so I continued to return to Laurent's stand daily.

"What is the one thing you are short of at Katrina's? What is the one thing that every restaurant on the East Side has missing from their menu?" Laurent asked in a low voice.

"Truffles?" My eyes were alight. If he saved truffles for me, a very big favor must be coming. "When did Santiago return from Italy?"

"Only last night. They are in very good condition. I know you do not carry much cash, but I will reserve some for you and bring them with your delivery at eight. You may pay me then."

"Thank you so much for accommodating me, Laurent. Garrett will be very happy to include truffles again on the menu." I smiled warmly, looking over his selection. He was right, the truffles were exceptional. "Please reserve these three for me Laurent. Could you bring whatever else you don't sell with the morning delivery? I know that Garrett would also like to have a look."

Laurent winked at me as he put my truffles aside. I handed him the list of produce I needed. The more expensive items I hand selected and put in my portable cart. I would prep these items while waiting for Laurent's daily delivery to arrive. I never felt the need to go to any of the other grocers' stands. I may not be entirely comfortable in my working relationship with Laurent, but it was much better than starting over with a different grocer.

I thanked Laurent, paid him for the produce I was taking and headed off with my cart. It was about six blocks to Katrina's from there, but I enjoyed the walk. The city was coming alive. The air was getting warmer but it was not yet as heavy as the night before.

I was about to send Garrett a text letting him know about Laurent's impending truffle delivery when I noticed an unread text from a few hours before. Angela had arrived safely home and was disappointed that I didn't know the mystery doctor.

Being reminded of the doctor got me thinking about him again. I unlocked the kitchen door to Katrina's, quickly disarming the alarm system. I set the panic button to standby just as quickly. While heading to my prep station, I couldn't help but replay the events of the night before. Really, was I such a boring person that mere coincidences could be construed as events?

I began preparing the produce after glancing over that evening's menu. I knew exactly how long it would take to chop, slice and julienne the produce before our errand-runner, Nahuel, would arrive. He would take any leftover produce from the night before, clearing out the refrigerator for the produce I was about to prepare. Inevitably, my mind began to wander.

I enjoy routine, I suppose. As far as I am concerned, spontaneity usually spells disaster. Variety in the routine is okay, just as long as I know what to expect. Produce shop, prep, go home, go to second job at a book store, play guitar on Thursday nights, rinse, repeat. I date on occasion, but so many unsavory experiences have almost pulled me out of the game. I am okay with that. Almost. If I'm honest with myself, I'm a lonely person. But if I avoid addressing it, no harm can come.

I exchanged pleasantries with Nahuel when he arrived to load up the previous day's produce for the soup kitchen. Garrett insisted that I buy too much every day in order to be prepared for a lot of customers. But it also made him happy knowing that any additional produce was going to those that were hungry. "A good meal makes more of a difference to those who need it than those who can afford it," he had once said to me.

I eyed the clock after completing my first round of prep. I had at least ten minutes before Laurent's arrival, so I sat in the office and made my daily calls. I opened my cell phone to see another missed text message from Angela.

_Call me. I'm still awake. Unfortunately. _

"Good morning Bella," Ben said once he answered the phone. He was always up this early; his job demanded it of him. "Thank you for sending my bride home in one piece." I loved that he still referred to Angela as his bride even though they were no longer newlyweds. "Let me get her for you."

"Thank you Ben. Have a good day at work. See you soon." Much too soon. I liked Ben a lot, but I was still dreading the impending flight home.

Without saying hello or even good morning, Angela started firing off questions before she could forget them. "Okay, so, I remembered what it was that I forgot while I was with you in New York. As soon as I saw Ben I remembered what it was. The next time you talk to your mom, will you ask her how she and Charlie came up with naming you Isabella Marie? We'd like to have some meaning behind the name of our baby, too. You had mentioned once that it was a family name."

"I was planning on calling Renee this morning anyway, Ang, so I will certainly ask for you." I admit I was a little curious myself. I knew that it was a family name on the Swan side but I wasn't sure how far back that name went.

"You work at the book store tonight, right?" Angela yawned. "Call me later and let me know what she says. I need to get some sleep!"

I hung up the phone, glancing at the clock. It was almost eight a.m. Laurent would be arriving soon. It would be the perfect time to call my mom who would rattle on unless I had something to kill the conversation. The kitchen buzzer announcing Laurent's arrival would do the trick.

"Good morning, Mom." My mother had yet to wake up. She always asked me to call around now anyway. I suspected it was because she hadn't figured out how to program the alarm and was too embarrassed to ask her husband, Phil, how to do it. They lived in Florida, where he played for a minor league baseball team.

"Good morning, baby," she yawned into the receiver. "What do you have planned for today? Anything fun?"

"Nothing too exciting, no," was my reply. "Say, I was talking to Angela…"

"How is she doing? Didn't she visit or something? I bet she is just glowing by now! Speaking of visiting, I'm going to postpone my visit until after you're back from Angela's. The crime rate in New York is too high right now and Phil won't be able to join me until his season is over, and they might make it to the post-season, isn't that great?" She was beginning to prattle.

"Hey, Mom," I cut her off. "The produce guy is going to be here any minute with my food. I just need to ask you a quick question before I go. Angela wanted to know why you and Charlie decided to name me Isabella Marie."

Renee was quiet for a moment, which was rare for her. "Well, Charlie wanted to name you Isabella Marie after his great-great or great-great-great… anyway… I can't believe he never told you this story…"

"It's entirely possible he did, I just didn't pay much attention at the time," I offered.

"Your great-great-whatever-grandmother was the last known civilian casualty of the first World War. She was accidentally killed or something. I think there is a book out that mentions the details if you're really interested. Anyway, Charlie thought that was pretty cool and so did I, so there you have it. You were named after her. I think her last name was Bain or something…"

There must be thousands of books on World War I, but this is the most I could get from my mother before I heard the kitchen buzzer. "Mom, thanks, I have to go. My grocer is here with the rest of my produce. I'll let Angela know. I love you." As I hung up the phone, I began to remember what Charlie had told me about the incident and I had to admit that my interest was piqued.

I got to the kitchen door to let Laurent in, only to be surprised by Garrett.

"Hey Bella, I forgot my key. I'm glad you let me know about the truffles. I was just on my way to take Kate to her office and we thought we'd stop by before heading downtown."

Garrett was a great chef to work for. Katrina's wasn't a top rated restaurant, but it wasn't for lack of trying. He did not micro-manage; in fact sometimes I'd only see him once or twice a week. His wife, Kate, is very smart, very beautiful and the restaurant's namesake. They had offered me a job even when I was unable to finish culinary school. It was difficult to find a restaurant's produce manager with only a certificate instead of a diploma, but that was the case with me. They took a chance and I had no plans to let them down.

The love that Garrett and Kate shared was an equal partnership built from mutual respect, trust and admiration, and similar to what I imagined I'd want for myself one day. I didn't consider myself a friend of Kate's, I was much too intimidated by her beauty. I did look to her as a mentor though, both professionally and personally. She rarely visited the restaurant in the mornings with Garrett. She only came by in the evenings to visit with the clientele and look over the books. I would be gone by that time unless Garrett needed me to fill in for the sous chef.

"Bella!" she beamed at me and came forward for a hug. She was a bit taller than me and had to stoop to reach me properly. I desperately hoped in that moment that my antiperspirant was still working as I didn't usually shower until I'd gotten home from kitchen work. She whispered in my ear, "I have a new assistant that I'd like you to meet. He's very cute. Interested?"

I couldn't help but blanch at her remark and was very grateful that she hadn't looked at my face yet. It was getting redder by the minute. "Oh, umm, thanks…" I started until the kitchen buzzer sounded once more. "That must be Laurent." Saved by the bell, again.

Garrett examined the extra truffles and ended up paying an obscene amount for them. But, Garrett got his truffles and Laurent got his money, so they were both satisfied. Garrett had once promised to show me how to make his special truffle oil, but until then I was too nervous to even handle them. He commented that the three truffles I had selected earlier were the best quality he'd ever seen. I smiled at his compliment.

The three of them left at the same time, leaving me in the empty kitchen. Kate did not bring up her assistant again and I think she could tell I was relieved. I didn't want to be pressured. I know someone would find me someday, and I was in no hurry. Too many risks. When Angela or Eric tried fixing me up, I'd gently remind them that the right guy for me might not be in New York, he might be half way across the world. Eric often teased that my soul mate was probably born at another time too. He knew I'd say anything to get out of a blind date.

My morning task complete, I headed home for a shower and a quick nap. Eric was at work, so I walked around the apartment in little more than a towel. Not that Eric would've minded in the least. He did the same every chance he got, even when I was home.

I took a moment to look myself over in the mirror, not entirely happy with what I saw but not too upset either. My body looked lived in, the product of gaining and losing weight in turn. My brownish-red hair was getting long again, mostly because my hair was always pulled back. Eric would insist on giving me a trim the next time he saw it down, I was certain of that.

I usually worked at a corner music-slash-bookstore-slash-coffee shop in the evenings. I grabbed my messenger bag and a light jacket because the sun would surely be down before I got off of work at nine.

I spent some of my time stocking shelves and cataloging music and the rest of the time searching for books. Anything that might include Isabella Marie Bain. My search netted three different titles and we only had two of those titles in stock; one was a new release with two copies available in the store. I would have to look for them on my coffee break.

The shift manager, Shelly, called me over to her station. "Hey Bella, we're looking a little slow and overstaffed tonight. Do you want to go early?" Shelly knew that I wasn't exactly working there for the money since I usually turned around and spent my paychecks on books and music anyway.

"Sure, if you don't mind. I'm going to go clock out and look around if that's okay. Speaking of, if you happen to see this title, could you let me know?" I handed her a piece of paper with the book names and authors.

I went into the back to clock out and grab my things then sent Eric a quick text asking him if he could walk me home as it was now past dark. I grabbed a coffee to go and headed toward the History section.

I found the first book rather easily and scanned it quickly before deciding to buy it. The second book, which was a pictorial history, was missing from its place. Someone in the store had bought it since I looked it up mere hours before. Or one of the copies was misplaced. Darn.

I turned to head to the register, but before I could get there I was stopped by a customer. "Excuse me, could you tell me where I could find…" I turned around to see the person addressing me. It was _the_ doctor. He wasn't looking directly at me as he spoke. I looked down, noticing the apron I forgot to take off when I clocked out. He looked up to finish his sentence, making eye contact with me. As his eyes met mine, he dropped the book he was holding. I kneeled forward to pick it up, half-embarrassed and half-curious to know what he had selected.

It was the book I was looking for. What were the chances that he was here, looking for the same book I was? Was my imagination getting the better of me again? After all, I didn't get that great of a look at the doctor last night. But what were the chances that the doctor from last night and this man before me were the same? They both had the same shade of bronze hair. Yesterday he was wearing formless scrubs, while this man was wearing a dark v-neck t-shirt and jeans.

He took a step back to get a better look at me. I flushed at the attention but was unsure why. "May I ask your name?" His voice was barely audible yet I detected a very slight English accent.

Automatically I shook my head and whispered, "No."

We stood there, looking at each other unabashedly. As if staring at him might reveal his secrets or that my recollection of him might be complete. The longer I looked, the more stunning he became. His features were nothing if not perfect.

I was far from flawless so I was at a loss as to why he was staring back at me so intensely. My mousy brown hair had come almost completely out of its clip and I was wearing an apron. Utterly forgettable.

"Bella," Shelly called from behind the mystery doctor, startling the both of us and breaking our eye contact. "Oh, sorry," she quickly amended, noticing the remnants of an intensity between us. It was too late. The spell was broken. He glanced quickly at the name tag dangling from the lanyard around my neck and a slight smile played on his lips. I held his book out, which he took earnestly and made for the checkout without another glance in my direction.

"I found the second copy of that book you were looking for earlier. It was shelved in the music section by accident." Shelly handed it to me.

"Th-thanks," I looked up to see if the mystery doctor was at the front of the store.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concern tainting her voice. "Do you need a ride home?"

"Um, yeah. Wait. No. No." I shook my head. "Eric will be here to get me soon, I think." Satisfied, she walked away. I grabbed my phone from my bag again, wishing I could keep my eye on the door. I needed to see him walk out of the door and for Eric to walk in. Eric's message was unread on my cell phone.

_I'm working late with Ted tonight. Cab, ok? Txt when you get home._

"Damn," I muttered, dialing a cab company. I made my way to the front of the store, the doctor apparently gone. After paying for my books, I paced at the front door, waiting for my cab to arrive. I wasn't about to wait outside.

I began to wonder why the doctor had asked me for my name. That seemed very forward of him. Either way, he got what he was after since Shelly said it and he confirmed it by my nametag. And what was with the all the staring? I enjoyed my view, but I couldn't quite grasp why his gaze was so intense.

A car's horn broke my reverie, the cab had arrived. As I stepped out onto the sidewalk, I saw a black sedan slowly begin to pull away. A mop of bronze hair was barely visible from its backseat.


	3. Chapter 3: Everybody's Changing

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: **Thanks to **NotEvenTheTrees** for her inherent ability to make sense of what I'm trying to convey. Who would think seeing so much red could be so exciting for a writer? :o) Thanks also to **eclipsedawn **who told me she was impressed and effectively turned me into goo. They're both awesome authors with great stories, please read.

I apologize in advance to anyone who might be offended by my Jacob or my Sam. Each story needs a villain (or two, or more) and I couldn't very well place James in Forks and make Jacob a protagonist as well. SM can make that work. I cannot.

**WARNING:** SOUR lemon in this chapter. Incident of underage drinking.

* * *

Angela had been gone two weeks now and I always found an excuse not to return to open mic night. I was perfectly content to stay at home and play the guitar, but the neighbors were beginning to complain. My cage had been rattled since the mugging and I was finding it difficult to recover.

I continued to work at the bookstore in the evenings but never caught sight of the mystery doctor again. I also decided that the black sedan I saw that night at the airport was not the same as the one the doctor could've been driving away from the bookstore. There were a lot of black sedans in the city and eighty-five percent of them were owned by the doctors that could afford parking.

If he wanted to speak to me, he knew where I worked and even my first name due to Shelly's unfortunate gaffe and my telling lanyard. The thought both terrified and excited me. I hadn't mentioned seeing the doctor again to either Angela or Eric. And besides, if he was a UNOS doctor, he was probably off somewhere else in the world, toting organs to their destinations.

"I'm really glad you finally decided to grow some balls and come play again," Eric chided me as we walked towards the coffee house. "Seriously Bella, I was beginning to think I was going to have to lock you _out _of the house!"

"Stop with the melodrama Eric," I rolled my eyes playfully. "I just wanted to finish that book I was reading about my great-great-great-whatever grandma. I promise I'm done now."

"What did you think of it?"

I described the book that the doctor and I both purchased on the same night. There was a small inset article rehashing the details that Renee had previously mentioned plus a blurry picture of Isabella and the man who must've been her husband. Isabella Marie Bain was killed by a bullet discharged from a World War I rifle hidden in the field next to where she was taking her dog for a walk. The dog had been spooked and became tangled in the rifle—somehow managing to fire it in the process—which then shot her in the upper chest. She was pregnant at the time and her baby, Margaret Bain, survived due to the good fortune of a doctor driving up the same lane. Her death occurred in Great Britain in 1925, several years after the end of the war.

Eric and I arrived, ordered our coffees and proceeded to sit in the section reserved for artists. I absentmindedly spent time drumming my fingers on the table and rifling through leaflets littered about. I read the artist line-up and realized that there was an artist after me whose name I hadn't recognized.

"Anthony _Bumbershot_?" I asked Eric. "Have we ever heard him before?"

"Honey, I would remember a crazy last name like that. I wonder if he's cute?" was Eric's reply. The boy really only had one thing on his mind.

"Why are you even looking, Eric? Things not going well with Ted?" Ted and Eric had been together for almost a year. But there was a significant hitch. Ted was in the entertainment industry, very married, and very much in the closet. Eric began working as his assistant shortly after coming to New York. In fact, it was Ted who paid the rent on Eric's apartment, where I also lived.

"I am here to support you, not to talk about myself," he offered, a soft sniffle betraying him. He was the best friend I could ask for, always taking care of me first. But that tipped the balance of our friendship which, in my book, was just not right.

"Eric, that's ridiculous. I'm on in twenty minutes, which is more than enough time for you to let me know what's going on. You do such a good job protecting me, I want to return the favor." I reached for his hand adding, "Please."

"He's using me, Bella." I nodded quickly, urging him to continue. "The last six months he hasn't written a single review. Everything that's been published lately? It's all been me. He does the red carpet interviews and then leaves. He does the press junkets, the celebrity interviews, but the hard work is mine. It's getting to the point where he just hands me the tapes and I write the stories."

"Is that why you haven't been home much?" I asked. It was a gradual progression, but I had noticed that he wasn't home as much during the day. While I missed him terribly, I assumed it was because he was _with_ Ted, not doing his work _for_ him.

"Yes," he nodded sadly. "And I'm so sorry that I haven't been home to protect you Bella. Especially that night you lost your guitar."

"Don't think on it for one more minute Eric," I insisted. "I will just have to go to a pawn shop and buy a used acoustic sometime. Charlie's guitar will work just fine until then." I reached down and patted the old case. I really didn't want to use it, but I needed to get back to performing. I promised.

"Before you do that, let me check with Ted and see if he has an extra somewhere. He gets obscene amounts of swag from various functions and hoards it all. I'll take a look for you. It's the least I could do."

"Thank you Eric, that would be great," I smiled warmly. "You are a good man who deserves a good man." He nodded in agreement.

"Speaking of good men," he began. I knew immediately where this was heading. Eric had a seemingly constant need to get people to hook up. I know he meant well, but 100% of the time it didn't bode well for me.

Here we go again.

"No, Eric." I wanted to nip this conversation in the bud. Wasn't it time for me to sing yet?

"I'm just saying that flirting a little never hurt anyone. I'm really good at picking them out for you Bella. Just let me look around for someone for you to flirt with while you're singing. Okay? Please?" The thought alone made my face drain of color.

"I don't know that the songs I've picked to sing would be conducive to the act of flirting, Eric."

"Well then change one of your songs! You can sing at least one happy song, can't you?"

Eric was right. The songs I usually chose are mostly melancholy, but I never felt like singing a happy song just for the heck of it. Does this reflect on my outlook on life? I hope not.

"Fine." I pulled my hand away from his and tucked my arms in, petulant. "Just to prove you wrong Eric, I'll sing a happy song just for you."

"Good. I'll signal who you should flirt with."

"Will you use your Cracker Jack Secret Decoder Ring to point him out?" I chided. We both burst into fits of laughter. That was what I needed since it was almost my turn to perform.

We sat in silence for a few moments before Eric began fidgeting uncontrollably. This was a dead giveaway that he had something he really wanted to share, but he was nervous what my reaction might be. "Okay, Eric, just spit it out."

"So I talked to Angela today. It's no big deal or anything. She and Ben were invited to the wedding. Did you hear who the best man is?"

I knew what he was referring to when he said _the wedding_. Jacob's wedding.

"I don't know Eric, who is Jacob's best man? Quil?" I asked, not really wanting to know the answer but giving the appearance that the subject didn't bother me anymore.

"I shouldn't even tell you," Eric lead. I didn't want to know, so I didn't reply. He was bursting at the seams. "Sam Uley."

I'd been trying since Angela left to forget about Jacob's wedding, but hearing Eric talk about it so casually was the last mental straw. Everything came rushing back, quick and fast and rough, and before I could shove them back down, I felt as if I were back in Forks.

*~*~*

Jacob had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. My dad and Jacob's dad were best friends, to the point of selfishness. Instead of worrying about what was best for their children, they worried about what was best for them. They were never keen on Jacob and I being a couple. The summer before our senior year, things escalated between us. In typical teenager fashion, the more they tried to pull Jacob and me apart, the more I clung to him.

I had planned on giving Jacob something very special for a graduation gift: my virginity. He was growing impatient with me and started using his past physical relationships as ammunition. I thought I loved him. I thought he loved me.

Then I got the phone call that brought me to my knees. Charlie died the day before I was to graduate from high school. Billy, acting more like a toddler than a parent, was too distraught to come to the funeral or even look at me. Jacob, likely because of his father, stayed away too. So, not only had I just lost my father, but in a way, I'd lost the other person I loved most. I felt abandoned and alone.

I buried Charlie and became, essentially, an orphan. Renee was child-like in so many ways that she was unable to help me. She came for the funeral but left shortly thereafter. Renee had always been the town's favorite gossip source: she took me away, when I was only a year old, from their beloved police chief. Even though I knew the simple truth, I'd heard all kinds of reasons as to why Renee left Charlie. I learned to ignore them over the years.

As a pre-planned graduation present, Charlie had given me money and plane tickets to go to Europe with Angela, Ben and Eric for one year. He felt badly that he'd never taken me on a vacation or seen much of the world himself. There was nothing keeping me in Forks anymore so I went.

Angela and Ben were married in Greece and Eric and I were there to witness for them. While I was in Europe, Jacob would send emails. He said how sorry he was for not being there for me as he felt a responsibility to his own father. He said he'd be waiting for me when I got back. He said that he loved me and always would.

He lied.

I hadn't let Jacob know when exactly I'd be back from Europe. I was on no one's time table so I helped Eric settle in New York then went to visit Renee and Phil for a week. I sent Jacob a text letting him know that I was back in the States and willing to try again as soon as I got home. It wouldn't be long before I would be safe in Jacob's arms again. I wanted to surprise him at home. But no one was more surprised than I was.

Even before going to Charlie's house or visiting his grave, I made my way to Billy's house, where Jacob still lived. Opening the door as I knocked, I heard Billy's booming voice call from the living room. He was on the sofa, his wheelchair beside it, watching the Mariners play at a volume much too loud for my ears, or his for that matter.

I swooped in to give Billy a peck on the cheek and whispered "shh" in his ear. I wanted this to be a surprise. A beautiful surprise. I was planning on completely forgiving Jacob his absence and giving him my intended graduation gift, one year late.

I ran up the steps to Jacob's room. As soon as I turned the corner and knew Billy was out of sight, I began to take off my clothes. I stopped for a moment, closing my eyes and letting the enormity of the moment overtake me. I was so nervous; I could only hear the pounding of my heart. It was beating so loud I couldn't even hear the roar of the TV downstairs. The closer I got to Jacob's room, the more excited I became. I was even hearing moans and cries in my head in hopeful anticipation of what was about to occur.

But the sounds weren't coming from my head. They were coming from down the hall. The pounding sound was not only coming from my heart, it was coming from the headboard being slammed into the wall repeatedly. Jacob was obviously not alone.

The internal war only lasted for a few seconds until I knew I had to see it for myself.

This had to be finished and Jacob _had_ to know that he'd been caught.

The only choice I had left to make was if I would slowly open the door or take it off by the hinges.

I opened the unlocked door quietly to see the scene unfold before me. Jacob's bed was opposite the door and the slamming sound emanating off the walls became amplified as the door opened more widely. Jacob was facing away from me, completely dressed. They were on top of his bed, him on his knees taking some hapless woman from behind. He didn't even have the decency to take off his pants, he must've just unzipped in his urgency to get the job done. His fingers laced behind his head, his elbows jutting out in an arrogant fashion. He looked down to watch her bounce off of him. A satisfied laugh escaped his lips.

Of all the things I had just witnessed, it was his laugh that struck home the most. It was the same laugh that I once loved and now… now it mocked me. I stood as long as I could before my knees gave way and I fell to the floor in the hallway with a resounding thud. He was so busy with the task at hand that he had no idea anyone else was there to witness his indiscretion. Why would he? His father couldn't make it up the stairs and his sisters were long gone.

Jacob grunted, annoyed, at the noise I made. "Christ, Dad, I'm busy up here. I'll be down in about… five minutes." He turned and saw that it was me sitting on the floor in his hallway, with only my bra and underwear on. "Bella, fuck!" Jacob screamed at me.

A halfway repentant man would've stopped doing what he was doing. Jacob wasn't upset that he'd been caught; he was upset that he'd been interrupted. Grabbing her hips, he turned back to the woman trying to finish. It didn't matter that I was _right there. _The last thing I had to come to terms with was the fact that he was doing that to Leah. Jacob's best friend's girl Leah. _Sam's_ Leah.

I didn't need to see any more, so I began quickly crawling down the hallway. I didn't know if I was capable of standing. I scrambled into my clothes as I found them and stumbled down the stairs. Mercifully, Billy had left the living area and went to hide elsewhere. The bile began to build in my throat as I ran outside towards Jacob's Volkswagen, where I let the contents of my stomach expel on his windshield.

I saw red. I wasn't about to return to Charlie's house with this vindictive feeling in my heart. I couldn't stop by his grave and not think of what I had just witnessed. There was nowhere for me to hide.

I drove in the general direction of Forks, no destination in mind, not knowing where I would end up. I just needed to think. Attempt to process what I had just seen. How I was feeling. _Why had Jacob pursued me so doggedly while I was in Europe? Did I wait too long to return? Was he just after my virginity the whole time? _I'd had a few chances to give it up while I was in Europe, all the while thinking it was sacred and something I wanted to give to Jacob.

As I drove into Forks and saw the looks of recognition and empathy on the faces of the people in the streets, I became furious. Sure, some were probably sorry about Charlie, but I couldn't help but wonder how many people were sorry that my boyfriend was currently fucking his best friend's girl. Trying to push the rising bile back down, I rinsed my mouth with the bottled water I had, spitting it out my window unabashedly, right onto the street. Who were they going to tell, my father?

I u-turned in the middle of Main Street and headed back to La Push. I knew what I had to do. I headed for Sam's. We had both been wronged, by Jacob and by Leah. I didn't want Sam to happen upon them like I just did.

I found Sam about a half-hour later and after I'd gotten a chance to get down to a low rolling boil. He was at the reservation's one and only bar and noticed me as I looked in through the window at him. He quickly got out of his seat and met me at the door, as surprised to see me as apparently everyone else was.

I told him I needed to talk to him privately; our shared shame was not something I'd want anyone else to witness. He led me to his van and, with the help of a little liquor, coaxed the information out of me. Before I realized it, Sam's bottle of liquor was gone. And I was numb. Unthinking. Exactly how I wanted to be. Our conversation was brief and it quickly turned south.

Sam was upset only because I was upset. I didn't realize this until later. In a moment of drunken verbal diarrhea, I admitted that I went to Jacob to lose my virginity. Sam wasted no time in helping me remedy that. It wasn't forced because I didn't say no but I was too emotionally and physically exhausted to fight him off.

My body betrayed me that day, Sam thinking I was excited and ready for him when in fact it was residual from what I wanted with Jacob. It was quick, painful, and without any affection whatsoever. Ironically, Sam didn't take his pants off either. Jacob and Sam took a page from the same book apparently.

I admit I wanted revenge on both Jacob for hurting me and Leah for hurting Sam. At the time the act seemed justifiable. I needed proof that someone wanted me. Sam seemed more than willing.

Sam, who was nowhere as near as drunk as I was, drove me home shortly thereafter, constantly looking over his shoulder. He was silent the whole ride. Then we pulled up to Charlie's house. And he started talking.

He said he didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea and that he didn't want _her _to find out. He had a clearer head now, thanks to the drive, and had an opportunity to regret our actions. He finally admitted then that he and Leah had broken up months before. Sam didn't know that Jacob hadn't told me about Leah. Sam was so unbothered by the whole thing he was currently seeing some girl named Emily, who just happened to be Leah's cousin.

Sam asked me not to say anything to anyone about what had just transpired between us. He reminded me that people in town would talk unkindly about me if anyone found out. "How would Charlie feel if he found out his daughter gave it up in the back of a van, if he were still alive?"

I was disgusted that Sam and Jacob could so easily share women, especially now I that was apparently one of them. And Sam's words stung; I _was_ ashamed of myself. After getting out of the van I noticed that I had left a spot of my innocence on his upholstered passenger seat. Let _him_ explain that one to Emily. I could hear Sam cursing vehemently as he sped away.

I looked up at Charlie's house, and in an odd moment of clarity, noted the small changes that had taken place in the year since I'd left. The white paint was peeling and weeds were sprouting between the cracks in the pavement.

I sat down on Charlie's porch steps and burst into tears. Everyone else had already moved on. Everything had changed in the past year—even an inanimate object like a house had changed, despite being empty. But where did that leave me?

~*~*~

"Earth to Bella," Eric shook my arm, breaking me from the disturbing memories. "You're up."

"Eric, I can't do it." Tears were threatening to spill. Once I allowed myself to remember, I had a difficult time pushing the memories back into their hiding place.

"Bella, you promised to try," Eric reminded me, a stern look on his normally jubilant face. "You promised Charlie."

_Eric's right, Bells. You did promise me. Now get up on that stage and show them what you're made of._


	4. Chapter 4: No More Sad Songs

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: ****NotEvenTheTrees**: after only beta'ing four of my chapters, I feel like we're a great team. Hugs and Mat Kearney's for you sister.  
**skywlkrgrl**: I'm sorry for doing that to Charlie last chapter. Thank you for reading, reviewing and being just as dedicated as I am, if not moreso.

* * *

I had three songs planned, but if I only made it through one, then so be it. My emotions were still a little raw from my unpleasant trip down memory lane. "Eric, will you play the ukulele for the first song?" Eric stalled, obviously requiring praise as an incentive. "Please? You're the best ever!" In a last ditch effort to convince him and lighten my own mood, I threw out the ultimate guy compliment. "I've seen you naked and I'll tell all the boys how generous your proportions are…"

He smiled and nodded his head. If you ever want a man to help you with something, just complement his package. It doesn't matter if you're not actually sleeping together or even if he prefers to bat for the same team. The results are the same.

We walked together to the small stage. As Eric took the ukulele from its case, I gingerly took the guitar from its case and sat on the stool in the middle of the stage. I tuned the guitar reverently and then slung the leather strap embossed with Charlie's name over my shoulder. I was seated so the strap wasn't necessary to playing; yet, it most certainly was necessary to me.

"Good evening everybody," I spoke into the mic to check the sound levels. "My name is Izzie Marie and I have a few covers I'd like to sing for you tonight. This is my friend…"

"Cracker Jack," Eric interjected into his own microphone, waving. The small crowd laughed. In a low voice, he whispered into the mic, "Tell them about my proportions." This elicited a low laugh from the audience.

"Oh, this is going to be interesting," I smiled as I began to strum Charlie's guitar. "Thank you all for staying to listen tonight. I'm not sure how far I'll make it, so please bear with me." I tried to compose myself before beginning. "This first song is by a talented singer/songwriter by the name of Kyler England. The name of it is 'Blue Ridge' and I'd like to dedicate it to the owner of the guitar I'm holding." The leather strap bearing Charlie's name began to slip and I made sure to right it before continuing.

Eric began strumming the ukulele as I followed suit with the guitar. Holding Charlie's guitar didn't make me sad in this moment. I felt like he was there with me, supporting me in the only way he could anymore.

I closed my eyes, which some would consider unprofessional behavior, but it didn't matter. I wanted to sing this song for Charlie and didn't want the distraction of the crowd's opinion to diminish that.

_Dying doesn't scare me anymore  
_'_Cause I know you're waiting there for me  
__But every morning terrifies me  
_'_Cause I don't know what I'm living for_

_Still everything is telling me  
__I gotta cross that Blue Ridge one day soon_

Mid-verse, without warning or my own volition, my mind began to wander back to when it was just Charlie and me in his house in Forks. He loved that house, and it felt like the first real home I'd ever had. I refused to sell it or rent it out. Even now, I paid someone to maintain the upkeep on it. Fortunately, the townsfolk had preserved it as a monument to the great man who once lived within.

Those times weren't always the best times. A steadfast bachelor and his sometimes petulant daughter did not always make for the most idyllic of companies. But when it came time for us to sit down and play guitar we were on the same level. He never played in front of anyone else, not even Renee when they were married. It was something he did just for me and something he made me promise to share with others someday. He had an amazing talent as a guitarist, one that I hoped to someday reach. But holding his guitar now, I knew that the difference was the artist, not the instrument.

Knowing what verse was coming, my voice began to crack. I shut my eyes tightly, hoping no one in the audience could see the tears forming in my eyes. As once was the case with Billy, sometimes I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror without thinking of Charlie.

_Hold a mirror to your photograph  
__A trick of light and you are staring back  
__At me, but do you see?_

We finished the song to sporadic applause. I turned away from the audience to give Eric a kiss on the cheek and he offered me a hug even before putting the ukulele down. "Are you okay, Bella? Are you done? It's okay if you want to stop now."

I dried my eyes and nodded. "I'm fine Eric. I think I'll continue. I'm going to need your help again for the third song, if you don't mind. Vocals only." I offered a smile, relieved to make it through the first song completely. I wished Angela were there to witness my cathartic moment. As long as I was making wishes, it would be nice to have Charlie here, too. But as Charlie would say, _if wishes were fishes, we'd all cast nets_.

"Okay, I'll just be over at the artist's table." He glanced towards the table he was referring to and his mouth dropped. Quickly recovering he whispered in my ear, "Remember you're flirting tonight. You promised. And I've got your intended target." He cocked an eyebrow.

I couldn't bring myself to turn around. But my face became redder, I could feel it. Why would Eric do that to me, right before I was about to sing again? Guh. Knowing I'd lost professional pretense by closing my eyes through the first song, I resigned myself to riding this song out as well.

I turned to sit back down on the barstool, once again straightening the shoulder strap and settling in. I couldn't scan the crowd just yet or make eye contact. I knew once I began the song, I would be fine.

"This next song is also by Kyler England entitled 'No More Sad Songs'. I'd like to dedicate it to Cracker Jack, who loves me most when I am happy and still supports me when I am sad," I smiled and turned towards the table that Eric was now occupying.

He was not sitting there alone.

_The_ doctor was sitting next to him, looking up at me with a crooked smile that almost knocked me off the barstool. I cleared my throat to sing as I noticed Eric giving me the not-so- subtle signal while standing behind the doctor: waving his hands and mouthing, t_his is the one! Flirt with HIM!_

I had a hard time breathing again, grateful that the song started out in a low voice and built in volume as the verses passed.

_Staring at the stars that you painted on the ceiling  
__I get so lonely while you sleep  
__Why's it always me, seeing question marks in places  
__Where the answers used to be_

_It must be getting late  
__But silent lullabies are keeping me awake  
__No more sad songs tonight  
__Come on love bring me back to life_

_Make it all stand still, stand still  
__No more sad songs tonight_

Uncomfortable as it was, I did look at the doctor. I smiled as much as possible, bringing the smile to my voice. To my surprise, he continued to watch me too. It wasn't unusual, in a coffee shop situation, for the customers to completely ignore whoever was on the stage. But not him. He continued to listen.

A few times, I even noticed him lean over to have a short conversation with Eric. It wasn't lengthy but I must admit I was dying to know what they were saying. Eric was smiling. That must be good.

I finished the song but the applause was different than the first song. I had a cheering section now. Eric was whistling, the doctor was smiling and clapping unabashedly. I waited a few moments before saying, "thank you" to my audience of two.

I wondered then if the doctor was the next artist up. Why else would he sit at that table? His name must be Anthony then, if that was the case. Perhaps that was why he was listening so intently. Common professional courtesy, I supposed. There could be no other explanation.

As I motioned for Eric to join me for my last song, I noticed that he was looking at his phone with a frown on his face. Assuming the worst possible scenario, as per usual with me, I thought something might be wrong. He walked up to me and said, "I'm so sorry Bella."

I turned off the microphone and leaned towards him. "Is everything okay? What's going on?"

"No, nothing's wrong. Not really." He shook his head somewhat sadly. "It's Ted. He needs me and has sent a car for me. I won't be able to sing your last song with you." As if on cue, a driver came into the coffee shop, scanning the meager crowd for Eric.

"Are you sure you want to go?" I implored. He _had_ just told me about the tempestuous trials he and Ted were experiencing and my protective side prevailed. I knew I was being overprotective, but I couldn't help it. He would do the same for me, if the roles were reversed.

"No, I'm not sure. But I will still go." He shrugged. "Will you be okay? Do you want me to send the driver back for you?"

"To drive me a mere two blocks? No, Eric, I'll be fine." But I wouldn't be fine. It was the same two blocks that the muggers found me and robbed me of my performance guitar. I would have my pepper spray ready this time, but I wouldn't be fine until I was safe inside. I smiled at him weakly and squeezed his hand. "Go." We both knew that his illicit relationship with Ted was the reason we had a home.

"I must say, you did a fine job eye-fucking the doctor," Eric teased. My mouth gaped, as I involuntarily glanced at the lone occupant of the artists' table. Eric turned around to wave at him. Bewildered, the doctor waved back. My face flared yet again, making our conversation all but transparent.

"That's not true Eric!" I was so grateful in that moment that the microphone was turned off.

"Oh you're right. Of course. Good girls don't participate in ocular fornication." He smiled slyly and headed towards the driver, nodding at the doctor has they made their way to the exit.

I sat there for a moment, unsure of what to do next. The only other song I'd practiced was the duet with Eric and he was on the way out the door. But I'd made it farther that I thought I could tonight, so it wasn't a complete loss.

I looked out at the audience, and only one set of eyes were on me. His. So I turned the microphone back on, cleared my throat and said, "Well I guess that's it for me, folks. My last song was a duet and my singing partner just vacated the premises. Again, my name is Izzie Marie. Thanks for listening."

Okay, so I admit I was disappointed that I wasn't going to sing the last song. It was one of my favorites and Eric and I had been practicing every time we had a few minutes together. I supposed it was something I could've sung by myself, but it would not have had the same effect. I took the guitar strap from around my shoulder and stooped to put the guitar in its dilapidated, yet irreplaceable, case.

"Isabella?" Came a soft voice from slightly above me. I flinched involuntarily. I wasn't used to being called by my given name. It usually meant I was in trouble as it was most frequently spoken at a higher volume.

"Yes…" I wasn't holding my breath, but I couldn't breathe. I raised my head, which was now level with the doctor's. We had never been this close. "Wait, how do you know my name?"

"It's not a name I will ever be able to forget," he stated simply.

"But, I go by Bella. My nametag said Bella." Great, thanks Shelly. Now he knows I know he was nametag snooping. And that I was thinking about him nametag snooping. Taking a chance, I decided to go with my assumption about him being the other musician. "Anthony?" I stated it as fact but it had the slight connotation of a question.

His eyebrows furrowed for just a moment. "Oh, yes… Anthony."

We just looked at each other again. Him studying my face as greedily as I was studying his. I hadn't allowed myself to drink him in until that moment. His bronze hair, his strong jaw line, his dark eyes. I quickly realized that I'd be able to check out what was south of his neck when he took the stage and I sat in the audience. The thought made me blush. Apparently I wasn't that good of a girl. Eric would be proud.

As I glanced into his eyes, I found something unexpected. It was as if he has seen me before and was just recollecting features and intricacies. He began to smile as his eyes wandered down my face to my neck, my collarbone. He should have been embarrassed at letting his eyes wander, and I should have been upset that they did. Neither of us made a move, though.

Someone behind him coughed, breaking me from my reverie. "I'm sorry. I'll be off the stage in just a moment."

"Oh, it's not that. Not that at all. Please." There was the slight British accent again. "If I may, I would like to sing with you," he offered.


	5. Chapter 5: Time to Mend

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: **Every chapter title is song title and several songs have been mentioned throughout the story so far. On my author profile I have posted a link to a playlist I've created for "My Heart With You". I'll update it regularly with the songs mentioned.

As always, long-distance smooches to **NotEvenTheTrees**.

* * *

"You want to sing with me?" I stammered. My cheeks flooded with color.

"If I may, yes." Anthony had his guitar case in his hand and was ready and willing.

Immediately, I stiffened. This was not a variation from routine; this was spontaneity of the disastrous sort. I can only imagine how frightened I looked.

"It's alright Isabella. You can tell me 'no' and step down from the stage. Or, you can take a chance and let me in."

"What?" I was unsure if I heard him correctly. "What did you say?"

"You can take a chance and let me on… the stage… with you. But only if you want me to." He began backpedalling. "Either way, I'm up next," he smiled gently.

_Knock it off, Bells. _I could hear Charlie's voice in my head clearly.

I began in a low voice, "I would like to sing with you, but I don't know if you know the song. They're not a very well-known group, and…"

"I am a big fan of The Rescues too," he smiled knowingly.

"How did you know I was going to play a Rescues song?" I was stunned. Could he read my mind?

"No, I can't read your mind. Your friend Eric mentioned that you were going to be disappointed to not sing 'I Miss Missing You' after he got that text message. I assumed, you being a Kyler England fan and all, that it was The Rescues' song he was referring too."

This was the most any man had ever said to me at once. I was taken aback and probably looked like I needed to be snapped out of my stupor. "Umm, yes," I managed dumbly.

"Yes that is the song or, yes I may sing with you?"

I quickly recognized the situation for what it was and mentally hit the reset button. He was being cordial, kind. "Yes, you may sing with me. And yes, that is the song we're singing."

He gracefully stepped up onto the stage and sat where Eric had sat moments before. As he opened his guitar case, I announced to the audience: "Ladies and gentlemen, it seems I have been rescued. Anthony here has graciously stepped in to sing the duet with me."

As I motioned to him I stole a glance at his guitar. I couldn't help it. It was the most beautiful acoustic guitar I'd ever seen. I would never be ashamed of Charlie's guitar, but his guitar was clearly a metaphor for its owner. I blushed as he caught me staring.

Clearing his throat, he spoke into the microphone, "Be gentle, this is my first time."

I looked at him, my eyes widening. This was really his first time on stage? Oh dear, this could be a disaster. Serves me right for taking a chance. His smile was as wide as my eyes were, showing some of his perfect teeth. He shook his head 'no'. He was kidding. My heart nearly leaped out of my ribcage.

_Settle down Bells. He's trying to be funny, just go with the flow._

I leaned closer to him for a moment to instruct, "Follow my lead, join in on the second verse, go with the flow." I repeated Charlie's mantra as I reflexively inhaled. Instead I caught some of his delicious scent which nearly sent me off my seat. Had it really been that long that I'd been this close to a man that wasn't Eric? This was nearing ridiculousness.

"We will be just fine Isabella. I can promise you that," he replied. He took a deep breath and his eyes began to darken and glaze at the same time.

Any optimism I'd hoped to retain was beginning to falter again. We had to start the song in order to be finished with it so I turned back to the microphone. "Okay then. 'I Miss Missing You' by The Rescues."

I began singing, as the first verse was for the female lead:

_I used to wish away your memory every night  
Trying to erase the lines you've drawn  
But suddenly you've faded almost out of sight  
Now you're going, going, gone_

I began getting nervous, as the chorus was shared by the male and female parts. Did he really know the song? I didn't trust many people with the other aspects of my life, how could I trust a complete stranger with a song? Sharing my songs was akin to sharing my soul. Charlie and Eric were both privy. What was it about this Anthony person that made me want to extend an offer so personal?

[both]_ Why did I try  
_[Bella]_ So hard to let you go  
When deep down I don't know  
_[both]_ If I am really ready to say goodbye  
_[Bella]_ Now what am I gonna hold on to  
_[both]_ I miss missing you_

He sang in perfect complement to my voice, never overwhelming and giving enough emphasis and emotion to make the song work well. But the next verse was all him. He began strumming his guitar gracefully.

_I always found some comfort in my loneliness  
If nothing else it filled the space  
Now that I'm over you  
I'm left with emptiness  
And nothing to take its place_

He sang with a refined power, very self-assured. I couldn't help but watch him, even though he was seated slightly behind me. He was looking right back at me, the glassy sheen still present in his eyes. I became embarrassed and looked ahead as we sang the chorus again, glancing over the crowd that was growing exponentially. Most noticeably, the female portion of the crowd stared unabashedly at the man seated next to me.

For the briefest of moments, I was glad I had taken the chance and let him sing with me. We finished and the applause was unlike anything I'd heard in the time I'd attended open mic night at this coffee shop. I couldn't help but smile as I looked at my singing partner, who was smiling tentatively back.

"Thank you," I spoke into the mic after bowing slightly to the audience. I gestured towards Anthony, who was placing his guitar into its case without closing the lid. "Thank you Anthony, for rescuing me."

He nodded and smiled. He seemed embarrassed at the attention and did his best to get the limelight back on me by gesturing towards me, bowing lowly beside me and then adding to the applause. I felt wonderful for a moment before realizing I had no one to share this moment with other than the stranger beside me.

I took Charlie's guitar strap from around my shoulder, brushing the "C" with a light kiss before placing it back in its case. I went to retrieve the ukulele before stepping down from the stage only to find Anthony holding its case before me. He made to retrieve Charlie's guitar case but I moved to stop him.

"Thank you, but I got this one," I smiled meekly. I needed to stop that. He was only trying to help. Stubborn, I held onto the guitar case anyway.

"Were you planning to stay and listen to the next artist? I hear he's wonderful," he asked with a grin as we were approached by a young woman with a very small top on.

"That was fantastic Anthony," she exclaimed, much too exuberantly.

He glanced at her for a moment before turning to me. "I couldn't agree more. She has a lovely singing voice. Now, if you'll excuse us, I need to get tips on how to continue to wow the crowd." But it wasn't me he was brushing off, it was her. Realizing too late, my mouth was agape. Tiny Top turned around and walked away.

"So?" He inquired.

"Yes," came my simple reply. "I think I will stay to listen to the next artist." I made a deal with myself. This was a minor flirtation, not an exchange of information. There was a wall around my heart for a reason and no smooth-talking, handsome, breathtaking man with a beautiful voice and great guitar skill was going to chip away at it. Not on my watch.

"Would you join me at the artist's table? I find conversation is the best way to soothe nerves before a set."

I understood completely. I simply nodded, trying to give off an air of aloofness. We approached the table and he placed the ukulele case behind it and against the wall where no one could reach it without going past us. In a momentary lapse that surprised even me, I handed him Charlie's guitar and he tucked it behind the ukulele.

We sat down adjacent to each other, my back towards the door and his towards the stage. I began to rack my brain wondering what we could possibly have in common to talk about besides both liking The Rescues and the reading the same book on World War I. I found myself wondering again if something was wrong with me. Why do I live in this little, inaccessible bubble? I've spent fifteen minutes—albeit, fifteen glorious minutes—with this man and I am beginning to see things I've been neglecting in my life for far, far too long. My social skills were painfully lacking.

We looked at each other for a few moments. I was beginning to come down from my performance high and the reality of my company hit me. Why did he continue to stare? I'm sure he was used to others staring at _his_ obvious beauty, but why did he stare at _me_?

"Eric is your boyfriend, yet he left you in the company of a strange man?" He asked in a frank manner.

"Eric is not my boyfriend, no. In fact, he just left to meet _his _boyfriend." I was about to volunteer that Eric was my roommate. But before I could let it out, my wall knitted itself back together securely. I didn't want to offer any information about myself, not yet. Going into details would only invite more questions.

"My apologies. The connection between the two of you is palpable. He adores you and your talent." It felt strange having someone sum up my closest relationship after only a few moments. I didn't think that Eric would reveal so much about us during my solo. In fact, that seems out of character, as I know Eric is as protective of our relationship as I am.

So, I did what I do best. I turned the tables as a defense mechanism.

"Your guitar is beautiful too," I blurted out.

"Thank you. Wait, too?" I was really hoping he hadn't heard that.

I lowered my head, knowing that my face was reddening exponentially. I needed to secure my brain filter a little better.

He must be kindly forgiving to basically let my verbal vomit pass without calling me out any further. "It is a Gibson Hummingbird, one that I keep with me in case of emergency, or for occasions such as this," he volunteered, relieving me of the awkward tension. "And your guitar? It is a Gibson too, correct?"

"Yes, it is a vintage Gibson. I am unsure of its age. I… I borrowed it for this evening."

"Well Charlie is very generous to let you borrow a guitar such as that." Hearing him say my father's name caused an unexpected reaction within me. It was spoken with reverence, nothing less. He was very observant, noting my father's name from the guitar strap.

"You're right. He is." I hoped he didn't catch the sadness in my voice. Trying to hide my telling eyes, I glanced down at the table to finger the flyers that were still strewn about, once again noticing his name. "You have an interesting last name, Bumbershot. That reminds me of the music festival in Seattle, Bumbershoot."

He laughed softly, "Not coincidental. Have you ever been to Bumbershoot?"

Somehow, this man had an ability to pull information out of me that I usually want to remain private. The desire to reveal a bit about myself overwhelmed the part that wanted to stay reticent. "Actually, yes, I went two summers ago with some friends. We saw Barcelona and I've loved them since. I've heard they might be there again this year…"

"Anthony B…" the emcee interrupted, obviously struggling with his name, "…well… he's up next folks."

"I've been to Bumbershoot as well. It's where I derived my stage name for tonight." Anthony leaned in again, his sweet breath washing over my face. "I don't recommend going this year Isabella. It's not safe in Seattle anymore." There was no trace of irony in his voice, he was being dead serious. It was alarming. He face remained close to mine until he quickly got up and moved towards the stage. He hadn't told me his real name; he let me believe it was Anthony while all along he knew my real name.

I was once again waging an internal war, trying to decide if this last bit of information was meant to warn me or to entice me to find out more. I needed something or someone to tell me what to do. I almost felt as if I was vindicated for finding out something false about him. He lied about his name. _See? That's what you get Isabella Marie Swan_, I mentally scolded myself.

_Knock it off, Bells._ I could hear Charlie reprimanding me again

I watched Anthony, the doctor, whoever the hell he was, sit down on the barstool with his guitar and adjust the microphone. There was no introduction, he started right in to his song. I knew which song he selected the instant he started strumming his guitar. He couldn't be playing this song by Barcelona because of me, could he? Had he any idea the impact this song had on me over the past year or so? I had told him minutes earlier that I loved Barcelona, but how could he have known the impact 'Time to Mend' had on me?

He started to sing the lyrics I knew much too well, and a buzzing in my head increased to an alarming volume. I had to leave. The walls were crashing in on me. The inherent fear inside this coffee shop far outweighed the fear I had of walking the two blocks to my home. I didn't know if I was more upset that this was the song playing or that he was the man singing the song.

I was not concerned about being disruptive; I just needed to get out. I had no idea how I managed to get Charlie's guitar and the ukulele to the door without tipping over tables and spilling everything to the floor, but I did. In my haste to exit, I ended up planting the ukulele's case into Tiny Top's ribs accidentally. If she was the only casualty, then my escape was a success. I couldn't even chance a look back as he sang the most powerful verse:

_In this world it's all turned around  
__We're caught in this place  
__Stalled in this place_

_But don't let it kill you now  
__We're not here to stay  
__We're not here to stay_

_And it's not the end  
__Cause you still have time to mend  
__It's not the end  
__You still have time_

I risked a glance back towards the stage as I stepped out into the dark street. His eyes were closed and a frown was indented on his smooth forehead. I needed to move now or I would stay for the wrong reason. I stole away into the night, grasping Charlie's guitar, which served as my life preserver and anchor at the same time.


	6. Chapter 6: A Cold Wind Will Blow

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: **Oh **NotEvenTheTrees**, how I love the blue brush strokes that you embellish upon my story. "My Heart" is certainly with you. Thanks also to **skywlkrgrl**, for reminding me about a little virtue called patience. It _is _worth it!

* * *

I began walking as quickly as I could away from the coffee shop. And even though I could still hear the faint sounds of his music, I couldn't help but irrationally fear that Anthony, or whoever he was, would follow me once he was done. So I took a different route home. Not the straight line that I'd usually take, but taking a side trip around a block. My paranoia was crippling.

My heart was trying to talk some sense to my head, asking what my real fear was and trying to make rational sense. He _had_ lied to me about his name; yet, it wasn't a real lie because sometimes people had stage names. Heck, even I had one. I couldn't expect him to be an open book when I was far too inclined to shut people out myself.

Why was I so upset that he was singing my favorite Barcelona song? He couldn't know it was the song that I had happened to use to guide me through a very difficult time in my life: grieving the loss of my father and the loss of the only love I feared I'd ever know. Maybe it was a sign that I should really move on and mend, something I thought I'd accomplished but most obviously had not.

As soon as I reached my apartment stoop, I realized how silly I was really being. I should go back to the coffee shop and ask his name. His _real_name. He really was helpful, singing that duet with me, and seemed interested enough to talk to me after we sang together. And I'd never been looked at by someone in that way before, as if his eyes seemed to purposefully recall my features. Not even Jacob, who I thought was the great love of my life. Maybe that was why it unnerved me so badly – because it wasn't something I'd ever experienced before.

Should I go back? I'd be lucky if I made it before he finished his set. I didn't want to carry Charlie's guitar around anymore than necessary though. Since I was already home, I figured I would at least drop it off first. I stole a quick glance over my shoulder on the off-chance that he was following me. This time I hoped that was the case instead of feared it.

Only to face my worst nightmare. All over again.

Instead of one handsome stranger, I was met by two young men. They wore layers of clothes and hoodies despite the August heat. As they got closer, the whole scene became much too familiar. Flashes of recollection weren't helping calm my rising panic.

Were they the very ones that took my performance guitar? One was short and slight, the other much too tall and muscular in build. With a very inappropriate laugh, I suddenly saw them as Pinky and The Brain – the proverbial brains and brawn operation. But, just as soon as the laugh started to bubble over, the panic won out, knowing that they were going to take Charlie's guitar and also knowing that there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.

"Just give us the guitars and we won't hurt you," The Brain said, changing the inflection of his voice to reflect something much deeper than what it would normally be; something intended to be menacing. They couldn't know that taking Charlie's guitar would hurt me more emotionally than anything they could do to harm me physically.

"Please, no. It's worth nothing to you." I began to cry. "I have an unsigned credit card you can have instead. It's here, in my shoe." I flung off my shoe in their direction. The gift card I had loaded for emergencies slid out of the shoe and onto the ground. Pinky became visibly aggravated at my attempt to stall and at having a shoe chucked at him.

"We'll take that too." The Brain took the card out of the shoe and Pinky stepped towards me to take the guitars. The ukulele slipped out of my grasp rather easily, I practically threw it at him. Charlie's guitar was another matter. My fist would not and could not loosen from around the handle. It was another war between my head and my heart: my head wanted to preserve my safety, my heart could not let the guitar go.

"No, no, no," I whispered rhythmically. He grabbed my hand to pry the guitar handle from my clenched fist. A car was coming up the quiet street, so he just took the case and pulled sharply. The decrepit handle came off quite easily and remained in my hand as they walked away as inconspicuously as possible. I watched them turn a corner, mentally willing the guitar to return of its own volition. Much too late I remembered the pepper spray.

I backed to the entryway of the apartment, unlocked the door and crumpled to the ground once the door swung shut. I could not believe what had just happened. My heart was broken. I don't know how long I lay there before I made my way up the flight of stairs to the apartment. I don't recall opening the door or finding my phone. I don't remember dialing Angela's number.

"Bella, say something! You're scaring me!" Her voice pulled me out of the darkness. I found myself sitting on the kitchen floor, my head leaning on my knees.

"It's gone. They took it," was all I could manage. My voice was impenetrably thick; I barely choked the words out.

"Calm down. Take a breath. Who took what Bella?" Angela tried to even her voice in order to quell my obvious distress.

I took the breath she'd instructed me to take. "I was mugged again, Angela. The same guys I think. They took Charlie's guitar," I recited quietly, thumbing the guitar case handle still in my hand. Saying it out loud made it sink in more. I didn't know I was capable of producing more tears, but they continued to fall.

"Oh Bella, I'm so, so sorry. Is Eric there?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm not sure Angela," I mumbled. I looked around, surely Eric would've come to the door had he seen me in my present state.

Then she did something I was unsure I'd ever known Angela to do before this moment. She became furious. "When you pack to come to Seattle for the baby, pack all your shit. You're coming to live with us and I won't hear otherwise. In fact, just come now, don't wait. This is ridiculous!"

"Seattle isn't safe anymore," I whispered, recalling the words of the man at the coffee shop, the mystery doctor, my rescuer. I did not know why his words would occur to me in a moment like this.

The door intercom buzzed loudly and I jerked so violently that the phone flew out of my hand. I quickly picked it up as I heard Angela speak again.

"What was that?" Angela asked. "Was that the door? Don't let them in, whoever they are!"

I heard the intercom buzz again. In an adrenaline-induced fog I spoke into the phone, "Angela, I'll call you right back. I'll check the camera before opening the door."

"Just stay on the phone with me. Put down the phone if you need to, just don't hang up." I could hear Angela instruct Ben in the background to try and get Eric on the phone. I hung up the phone in my absentmindedness.

I approached the door intercom and looked to the security monitor, thankful in that moment that Eric had insisted upon its installation after the first mugging one month prior. I couldn't see anyone in the doorway so I waited. The buzz came again. I depressed the intercom button. "Yes," my voice cracked, so I cleared it and repeated, "yes?"

"Delivery for Ms. Swan," came a low voice. There was still no one visible in the doorway. I moved closer to the grainy black and white screen. I looked again and there were two objects on the ground and one smaller item. Could it be?

"Wait, who is this?" I was shaking harder. I didn't want to go to the entry without knowing who it was. The fear and joy were overwhelming me.

"Edward."

I racked my brain. I didn't know an Edward and I said as much into the intercom. I was met with minutes of silence. I kept staring at the monitor. I needed to get to that entryway.

In an instant of recklessness unbecoming of me, I grabbed the pepper spray and bound out of the apartment and down the steps. Beyond the front doors was the ukulele. And, right beside it, Charlie's guitar replete with missing case handle. I thought briefly that this might be a trap but the desire to have it back overwhelmed the fear.

I opened the door as quietly as I was able, propping the door open with my foot. I glanced both directions down the sidewalk before reaching towards the cases. I grabbed Charlie's guitar case awkwardly and stuffed it under my arm holding the pepper spray, thankful that I could feel the weight of the guitar inside. I picked the ukulele up with my other hand and it seemed unharmed as well. I looked down to see the abandoned shoe and placed it back on my foot.

As I moved to reenter the apartment building, a cold wind blew through the door. I could swear I heard someone behind me say, "You are safe. They will harm you no more." I snapped my head around as the door latched shut. There was no one to be found.

By the time I got back to my apartment with the guitars, the phones were ringing off the hook, both the apartment phone and my cell phone. Angela and Ben were both trying to call, as was Eric. I explained to Angela what had happened, leaving out details that might scare her into coming to New York to retrieve me. The longer I talked to her, the calmer I became.

I opened the case to look over Charlie's guitar which did not have any additional scratches. I picked up the guitar and played Charlie's favorite song, "Delta Dawn". I smiled as I thought of him, so very grateful that this evening had ended as well as it had.

Eric came home about an hour after the guitars were returned. He tearfully apologized for what happened and for not being home when it did. He immediately began repairing the guitar case's handle with the materials we had available in the apartment. Eric offered to sleep in my bed with me in an effort to make me feel safe.

But I didn't feel unsafe. Although I didn't recognize the voice that said _you are safe_, I believed it. It was irrational, this belief. Maybe I wanted to believe it more than I wanted to succumb to the fear that had been plaguing me far too long. Whoever this Edward was, he had saved Charlie's guitar and I would be forever grateful.

I had considered calling in to work the next morning but decided against it. I was a little skittish, but I needed to move forward instead of backward. Eric walked me to Katrina's even though he got as much sleep as I did, which was practically none. It made him feel better, so I agreed. He held my hand, told me how proud he was of me for singing with Anthony, and said how sorry he was for missing our performance. I didn't let him continue to talk about other regrets.

I gave Eric a kiss goodbye at the door of Katrina's and waited for him to round the corner before I grabbed the produce money and headed to Laurent's cart a few blocks away. Despite the lack of sleep, I had so much energy and so much to be thankful for. I slipped the iPod's ear buds into my ears and took off with my produce cart.

I hit shuffle and the first song that started playing was Barcelona's "Time to Mend". I smiled so big my cheeks hurt. I started thinking about 'Anthony' and how badly I felt that I missed the rest of his performance. He really was a lovely man, a mystery certainly, and we had what I could only describe as a peculiar chemistry. And, he was kind enough to help a lady in distress.

"G'morning Lady," Laurent offered, lacking his normal enthusiasm.

"Good morning to you, Laurent." I noticed then that he had tears pooled in his eyes. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Miss Bella, I shall not frighten you with my troubling news," he said this in a manner that begged me to press for more information, so I obliged.

"It's alright. My dad wa… is… a cop. Nothing much scares me anymore." I was such a liar.

He waved me to come closer. "Two of my produce men have gone missing. Last night they were walking home and someone snatched them right off the street." He animatedly finished with a flurry of hand movements as if to mimic the snatching.

Okay, he was right. This was scaring me. Two grown men being grabbed off the street? "Which neighborhood were they last seen in?"

"Just north of here a few blocks."

I lived just north of here. "Any idea what time?"

"Sometime between sunset and midnight." That was the same time that I was out. The proverbial bulb above my head exploded.

"Laurent, I'm sorry. Could you tell me what they looked like? Their build, that sort of thing." I implored, trying to keep the desperation from my voice.

"Felix is very tall and has a lot of muscle. Demitri is shorter, not very big." Sounds like Pinky and The Brain alright. "Whoever took them, it must've been a few very strong people. I can't imagine one person being able to do that…" he trailed off.

I looked down at my hands which were clutching my list and shaking visibly. I handed Laurent my grocery list trying unsuccessfully to calm my hands in the process. "Please know that I'm thinking of them. Would you let me know if you hear any news?"

I continued to look over the more expensive selection of produce, as my head continued to reel. My head was putting together a complicated web of facts and possibilities that, at the same time, I could not believe.

Last night two men, a short slight man and a tall muscular man, mugged me, taking Charlie's guitar.

Last night two men, a short, slight man and a tall, muscular man, were kidnapped in my neighborhood.

A man named Edward saved Charlie's guitar from two muggers.

If I added these things together as I saw them, there was a possibility that this same Edward was responsible for the kidnapping of the two muggers.

And, to keep the deduction going, there was a possibility that Edward was holding these two men as he was delivering Charlie's guitar. That would explain why he couldn't reveal himself to the security camera.

And then I had a thought that confirmed my suspicions of being a little on the loony side.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

I was saved _twice_ last night.

First, my performance was saved by Anthony. Then, my guitars were saved by Edward.

I begin piecing the meager evidence together. I wasn't sure if I was forcing the puzzle pieces together or not. Rationality took over. Sure, he had rescued me on the stage last night but that doesn't mean that he saved Charlie's guitar.

But, my heart argued, both Edward and Anthony made comments on my safety. How often does that happen? Anthony had been concerned enough to tell me not to go to Seattle. And then Edward, mystery that he might be, told me I wouldn't be harmed anymore.

Anthony knew how important Charlie's guitar was to me. He remarked on it while we were on stage. He would have indirectly known how devastated I would have been if they were stolen. But, he wasn't done playing when I left. There's no way he could have followed me! So there's no way he would have known they actually were stolen. My rational brain was trying to talk me right out of this train of thought.

But my heart? My heart wouldn't let me drop it. Something just... fit…

The most obvious conclusion was that I was on the cusp of losing my ever-loving mind. Because these contrived facts and obscure possibilities were exciting me past the point of reason, even past the point of self-preservation.

Was there a possibility that Anthony's real name might be Edward?


	7. Chapter 7: You Found Me

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** **NotEvenTheTrees** didn't want me to change a thing. **skywlkrgrl **wanted me to italicize the last two words. Could it be I'm getting better at this, or is it that they're just tired of my narcissism and anal-retentiveness? Either way, thanks girls.

* * *

Weeks had passed. All I had was my imagination and little else to entertain me. I returned to the coffee shop on open mic night, but not to sing. That could wait until I got a different guitar. I asked for extra shifts at the bookstore in the hopes that he would return. I found myself hanging out in the history section.

I needed to know if Anthony was Edward and if he was responsible for the return of Charlie's guitar. If I was honest with myself, he'd also returned my sense of well-being. I felt alive for the first time in years.

It was nearing the beginning of September and the sun's turn in the sky was getting shorter and shorter every day. But during the day the heat was sweltering. We hadn't had rain or even a cloud that I could remember.

I briefly considered going to Seattle to attend Bumbershoot, then recalled the warning: _It's not safe in Seattle anymore_. Concerts like Bumbershoot were sure to bring out the insecurity I internalized. I think I would be fine going back for Angela's baby's birth. I was even beginning to feel better about being in the State of Washington in general, the proximity to Jacob and his impending nuptials bothering me much less than when Angela first announced the news. What happened to me?

I had talked to Angela every day since the mugging. She had concurred that it was unnecessary for me to move there now. The streets outside my door were safer than I could ever remember since moving here. It didn't go unnoticed by The Times either, who covered the safer conditions that seemed to encircle my neighborhood in particular. Were my muggers the cause of it all? With them off the streets, is that why things improved so significantly?

~*~*~

Eric wanted one last summer hurrah that did not involve Ted, who seemed to be spending more of his time in Los Angeles anyway. We decided to spend the day at New York Aquarium on Coney Island. Eric was partial to the sea otters while a trip wouldn't be complete for me without going to the penguin habitat.

We got off the F train and bound in like two kids, holding hands. Eric insisted on buying me a penguin hat which I put on proudly. We watched all the aquatic shows and took in all the sights. It was the most fun I'd had in a long time.

"So, I'm sorry we haven't really talked in awhile," Eric squeezed my hand as we began the walk to the penguin habitat.

"I know honey, I've missed you too. How are things going with Ted?" I asked tentatively, having a good idea what the answer was and bracing myself for his reply.

"I really did not plan on talking about this today, but we may have to prepare to move."

"That bad, huh?" I stopped and pulled him into a hug just outside the habitat doors.

"It's just not getting any better, Bella. Now he's talking like his wife wants to get pregnant. If he agrees, then it has to be over. I don't want to be the other man anymore, especially if there are children involved. I assume that he'll stop paying our rent. I may even lose my job."

My heart was breaking for my friend. I needed to stop always focusing on myself and help him. "We'll find a way Eric. We can get a one room flat if we need to. And even if Ted wants you fired, the execs are going to notice the work you've done on Ted's behalf. We'll be fine, you'll see."

"Thank you," Eric pulled away from our embrace first. He put his hands on my face and smiled. "I love that you're still wearing your penguin hat. Now, what has been going on with you?"

I shrugged. "There hasn't really been much to report," which was unfortunately very true.

"How has the search for Anthony been going?"

I hadn't told either Eric or Angela my suspicions regarding Anthony or Edward or that they could be the same person. It made little rational sense to me either. I couldn't confirm anything until I found him again, regardless of my suspicions.

"I've been looking Eric, and he is nowhere to be found," I conceded. "I don't mean to sound defeated but I'm not sure what else I can do."

"Well I'm glad you're at least trying. Usually you would be relieved that your date hasn't gotten back to you."

"It wasn't a date, Eric," I corrected him. "He was really very interesting. In fact, there are a few questions I want to ask him."

"Questions? Like what size condoms can I stock up on?"

"Oh my… Eric! Do you only have _one _thing on your mind?" I pulled his arm playfully and opened the door to the penguin habitat.

As if almost in slow motion, several things happened at once. As I pulled Eric's arm and pushed open the habitat doors, someone stepped back to avoid being hit by the swinging doors. As I realized that I'd almost hit someone with the door, I ran into his chest, which caused Eric to run into me. If we'd had any speed behind us, all three of us would've landed on the ground. Fortunately it was only our bodies that collided and none of our heads hit. My penguin hat fell forward on my head, covering my eyes.

"Oh my… I am so sorry…" I pushed my hat back to see who I almost toppled.

"Isabella."

I didn't need to look to know immediately whose lips had uttered my name. His voice was distinct, whether spoken or singing. His hand was on my shoulder, steadying me. It was firm and cool to the touch.

"Uh… hi?" What was I, a child? Could I not form a complete sentence? I had been rehearsing our next conversation for weeks, and couldn't remember a thing in this moment.

Eric and I both took a second to straighten ourselves out. We both started giggling at the state of each other as he looked on with a smile.

"Eric, it's a pleasure to see you again," he said sincerely as he reached to shake Eric's hand. "I apologize for my cold hands." He waved his hand, indicating the room we were in.

Our eyes adjusted to the lack of light. He was wearing a white button-up shirt and jeans. He didn't seem to be bothered by the cold, but I had no idea how long he'd been in the habitat.

"Good to see you too," Eric offered. "Hey, thanks for taking my spot on stage. Bella said that you did a good enough job." I shot a look at Eric that meant to be a warning, but only set his eyes alight. He winked at me and stole a brief glance at the hat on my head. "If you two will excuse me, I need to go see a man about a walrus."

My smile disappeared instantly and I tried to reach for Eric's hand to get him to stay. I was panicked, and at the same time, at ease. Of course I would have to have this conversation with him alone. Eric didn't have to be here for this.

"Text me when you're ready to go," Eric said as he backed through the doors.

I turned to face him, smiling sheepishly as I knew he saw the look on my face as Eric made to leave. I stepped towards the glass, hoping beyond hope that he would follow me.

"So, was my performance that bad?" He asked as I gazed at the penguins. My head turned toward him, a frown plain on my face. Why would he assume that?

"Sorry?"

"I only ask because you left so quickly when I was on stage." His forehead was creased again, revealing a conflicted emotion. I wanted to verbalize something that would take the indentation away, as touching him would be entirely inappropriate.

"I am sorry about that. I wish I could come up with something clever and say that I was called away or that I had an emergency, but that would not be true."

"You cannot lie." A statement, not a question. "Not even to spare my feelings."

I hedged, trying to think of something to say that would alleviate him of any responsibility. "The truth is embarrassing and makes me a bit transparent." I paused, hoping he would change the subject.

"Please." He looked me straight in the eye. For how long, I was unsure.

"The song you sang…"

"Time to Mend." He remembered, even after all these weeks?

"Yes, well it has significance for me. It helped me through a time of… loss… that I thought I'd recovered from."

"Loss?" His face softened unexpectedly. "My sincerest apologies. I understand now." His hand twitched, as if he wanted to touch my own.

"It's alright now. It just surprised me at the time." I smiled genuinely. "Had you planned on singing that song?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"I like to adapt my music to the audience. Someone had mentioned Barcelona, so I felt I must oblige." He smiled again. I could not imagine a more beautiful smile emanating from any other face.

I tore my eyes away from him, smiling contentedly and tried to focus my attention on the penguins. I caught my reflection in the glass pane and took off my penguin hat, embarrassed. He took the hat from my hand and placed it back on my head. Again, I involuntarily flinched at the contact.

"You don't trust easily, do you Bella?" He asked in a low voice, concern lacing his words.

"I have a hard time trusting strangers, and you are a stranger to me." I said matter-of-factly.

"How can I become familiar to you?" He said quickly, in earnest.

I paused, my head and heart reeling. I wasn't sure of the implications of my answer just yet. In fact, I wasn't sure what he was asking. Most importantly, I wasn't sure why _he_ was asking _me_.

_Knock it off, Bells._

He tilted his head forward and looked at me through his eyelashes, unleashing the full force of his gaze. "I would like to see more of you."

I tried to place my hand on the window pane to steady myself as discreetly as possible. He didn't miss my effort. I looked towards the penguins again, blurting out, "I think I read somewhere that penguins mate for life." If there was a black hole in the universe anywhere, I wished it would arrive in this moment and save me from myself.

"Actually, that is a misnomer. Many species of penguin do form long-term relationships, but some species choose a new mate every year." That bit of knowledge managed to make me feel worse. Jacob would do well as a penguin. "There are few species remaining that do mate for life."

"Humans certainly do not," I muttered under my breath.

"That is true," he said. "I can think of one species that does: Vam…"

_BUZZ BUZZ_

I started, looking at the phone I'd forgotten in my hand. It was Angela.

_Eric said you found Anthony in the penguin habitat! Details!_

I looked back up sheepishly. "I'm sorry about that. What were you saying?"

He smiled softly. "I believe we were talking about mating habits."

I shifted towards him slightly, without my volition. "Umm…" My brain froze.

His smile became more pronounced, letting me off the hook. "I do have a question for you, Isabella." He waited for my nod of approval. "May I call on you soon?"

"Oh, um, sure!" There I go again with childish ramblings. I am usually much more loquacious than this. Was I going to begin lacing my dialogue with the word _like _or_ totally_? I gave him my cell phone number, as giving him our apartment phone number was sure to invite Eric's chicanery.

He pulled out his cell phone, presumably to enter the number I'd given him. Instead of putting his phone away, he placed the receiver to his ear and waited. "Umm, yes, George's Pizza? I was wondering what specials you had for this evening. Gyro pizza? Is that with the cucumber sauce? Great. I'll call later to order."

He frowned at me as I stood there embarrassed. I had given him my favorite restaurant's phone number instead of my own.

"I am so sorry. Please, I didn't intend to give you the wrong phone number." I began to rack my brain, trying to remember my own phone number. He reached for my hand but took my cell phone instead.

"Whether giving me George's Pizza's phone number was intentional or not, I believe you still have issues with trust. I am programming my phone number into your phone. I want you to call me when you're ready to become familiar. I don't like the thought of being a stranger to you." He smiled warmly and I returned it eagerly.

_BUZZ BUZZ_

He looked at my phone and quickly gave it back to me. "I believe Eric has finished his business with the walruses, and you must be getting cold."

I hadn't noticed when I began shaking, but I was indeed cold. He must've been in the habitat longer and didn't seem affected by the cold in the least.

_BUZZ BUZZ_

This time it was his phone, which he flipped open, scanned for a fraction of a second and closed. A frown framed his face once again. "I must be going. I hope to hear from you soon Isabella." He reached for my empty hand and gave it the slightest of squeezes, while rubbing the back of it with his thumb. I felt a shock of electricity, as if we'd been running around collecting static instead of standing in one spot.

Before I could manage to utter the word _wait_, he was gone. I didn't get a chance to ask him anything. And I had so many things I still needed to know. Most importantly, what was his real name? I looked at the hand that he had squeezed, still feeling the ghost of his light touch. His hand was cold, obviously, and his hand felt very smooth. It was not the rough touch I was accustomed to.

I flipped open my phone to see the text message Eric had sent.

_OMG! Tyler called!_

I smiled as I closed the text. A thought occurred to me as I was looking at my phone. I didn't have to scroll through my meager contact list before I found what I was looking for. Sandwiched between my two most frequent contacts "_Angela_" and "_Eric_", was a new name:

_Edward Cullen_

* * *

**A/N: **Is there an award for most obvious "surprise" ever? Because that reveal should be nominated. Seriously though, typing those two words for the first time in this story was just... delicious.

Playlist on my profile has been updated too!


	8. Chapter 8: Come When I Call

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: **While I usually post on Thursdays, I wanted to participate in The Fic Bridge's "Grateful for the Reader" event. So thank you, thank you, thank you to my readers for reading. I'll also send a personal thank you to anyone who reviews this or any other chapter today. Check your FF inbox!

**NotEvenTheTrees** made this chapter so much better than it was. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you to **eclipsedawn** for taking a look a giving me some great advice. Thank you to **jezzeria** for her recc on twitter the other night! I love that you love it and others do now too!

**Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!**

* * *

When the sun blared through the small window of my room, my eyes snapped open automatically, my mind already frantic, thinking I'd slept through my alarm. Then reality set in.

Today is September thirteenth. My birthday.

Charlie was a workaholic, but he always took my birthday off to spend with me. He even allowed me to take the day off from school. We did whatever I wanted to do. It was the one day that I was his Bells and he was my Daddy. We began a tradition of reflection on the past year. We talked about what I hoped to accomplish in the next year and what he could do to help me accomplish it.

As I lay in my rather comfortable bed, I let myself drift back through the major events of the year. This past year was just… okay. I liked my jobs, loved my friends, and continued to miss Charlie like crazy.

It felt like just yesterday that Angela and Ben called Eric and me to share their good news. I was going to be a Godmother! Me, who's never had a sibling, was about to be kind of responsible for Angela and Ben's little person. Angela's too close to term to visit now; I'm thankful she came a few months ago.

Eric is a wonderful friend, but there's something about having a good girlfriend close by—someone with which to ogle boys, play dress up and obsess over silly details with. I giggled. Who am I kidding? Eric and I do all those things, too.

With a sigh, I rolled over to look out the window. Yep, view hasn't changed. Same old brick wall three feet away. Irritably, I turned my back to the window. I burrowed back under my covers.

But my moodiness was self-inflicted. It had been a week since I saw Edward at the aquarium. A long, dragging, Edward-less week. I couldn't help _but_ think about him. All of the defining events of the past few months were somehow all linked back to him. My theory was correct—Edward and Anthony are indeed the same person.

It was both a relief and a worry that I knew his real name. I could now give him a proper "thank you" for saving Charlie's guitar. It was also a relief that I could attach a name to the man who had taken up residency in my dreams almost every night. I was delusional to think that he was my guardian angel, as I would wake up in the night and sense his presence. This was unfathomable, of course. But it was much easier for me to create a perfect man in my dreams than to get to know him and risk discovering a broken halo.

But it was also a worry that I realized what knowing his name implied. While he had saved Charlie's guitar, he had also possibly harmed the two men that had mugged me. They had yet to be found. That or the newspaper had just dropped the story of their disappearance. But, as much as my brain tried to tell me I needed to know, my heart was telling me to leave it alone. That it would all work out. This uncertainty was the main reason I hadn't called him yet.

Not wanting to think about it anymore this morning, I pushed my covers off and Edward out of my mind. I did the morning shuffle down the hallway to our little kitchen where Eric had left me a note which read, _'G'Morning birthday girl. At the gym, will stop by grocery store after. Text if you need anything.'_

Eric had a pot of coffee brewing and a box of my favorite cranberry cream cheese scones laid out. He had a Sunday paper for me as well, opened to the crossword puzzle. I loved Eric so much. I didn't know what I was going to do without him. Maybe it was time for me to make a change too.

Eric had ended the relationship with Ted, but not before securing his job with Ted's boss. The executive had mentioned that there was a job opening in San Francisco that would fit Eric's abilities perfectly and the job was his for the taking. The best news of all was that Tyler lived in San Francisco as well and had taken a big step out of the closet. It was such a good feeling knowing that Eric could finally be in a balanced relationship.

At the same time, I couldn't help but worry about what I was going to do. I had a few more weeks to decide, as rent was paid through the end of October. I could try to find another roommate, I supposed…

This next year would take on a whole new hue. I would become a Godmother, hopefully pursue a… something… with Edward and possibly live on my own for the first time in my life. All potentially very scary things, but I knew I could handle it. Charlie had told me on several occasions that I was a strong, independent woman.

The apartment phone rang and I knew instantly it would be Angela. The doctor had her on bed rest now as her blood pressure was elevated.

"Good morning Bella. Happy birthday!" Angela's smile reflected in her voice.

"Good morning lil mama! Thank you." I couldn't help but smile back at her, imagining her lying down with the phone propped against her ear.

"What do you have planned for today, anything fun and exciting?" She asked inquisitively.

"I really don't have much planned besides a crossword, a pot of coffee and this box of scones." In order to placate her, I added, "I may go to the bookstore later and pick myself out a new book or something." I hoped she couldn't hear the lie. I didn't have any desire to leave the apartment today.

"Ooh, sounds like fun," she said with a great deal of sarcasm. "Ben got you a Barcelona shirt from Bumbershoot."

"Tell him thank you! You didn't go?"

"No, what with bed rest and the recent crime spree, I feel best at home." Her frown was as apparent now as her smile was just moments before. I began to think of Edward all over again, despite my reticence. He had made reference to Seattle's issue with crime.

"Angela, you've got to stop worrying so much about the crime rate, it can't be good for your blood pressure."

"You have no room to talk Isabella Marie," she said reproachfully. "Well you didn't used to and now that you have your own knight in shining armor…" She was leading me and I stupidly took the bait.

"You know, I never should've told you about all that. Now you have all these illogical romantic notions that couldn't be farther from the truth. I never should have told you that Anthony was Edward."

"So, have you called him yet?" She pressed.

"Who, Edward? No!"

"Why haven't you called him? You know I could have Eric steal your phone and make the call for you."

"You won't do that Angela." I said as sternly as possible. I was much too aware of her and Eric's past contrivances on my part. I'm not sure why they so desperately wanted me matched with someone. Perhaps it was because they were both happy with someone and only wished the same for me.

"No, I won't do that. Not today at least since it is your birthday."

"Well then I suppose I should thank you for the reprieve. I'm… I'm just not sure what to say to him, Angela. Or where to begin, or…" I paused, debating how much I wanted to share. Oh, what the hell. Angela had a way of getting me to spill anyway. "It's unbelievable, the way I feel when I'm around him. I can't make a coherent thought, let alone actually say anything in is presence." I knew this was not a good thing to say if I ever expected Angela to stop harassing me about calling. But my heart needed an ally, and few knew my heart better than her.

"Then you should let him do the talking Bella. You've said that he doesn't want to be a stranger to you, that he wants you to trust him. Let him lead the conversation."

"But Angela, how will I know if he's telling me the truth?" I unintentionally whined.

"Has he done anything untrustworthy at this point? NO!" She answered her own question, with emphasis. "He returned Charlie's guitar. The guitar you never let anyone else touch. He stepped up onto the stage and helped you when he didn't have to. For the love of all that is holy, Bella, not every man you encounter is going to be like Jacob!" That one stung.

She knew it, too.

Neither of us said anything for a few moments. I knew she was right, but I needed to gather my thoughts.

"I… I know you're right. I'm not sure why I'm making a big deal out of this. It's not like we're planning a life together or anything. He does make me feel safe, that much I'm certain of."

"I know you're scared Bella, but you have to take a chance. Sometimes you have to take the leap and build your wings on the way down. Promise me that you'll call Edward."

"I… I promise." And I intended to keep this promise to her as I had Charlie all those years ago.

I heard her hiss into the receiver, knowing that she was uncomfortable. "How are those Buxton Hick's coming along?"

"They're called Braxton-Hicks, silly, and they're painful as hell. Ben is getting tired of me calling whenever they get started up again. I have an appointment tomorrow… I can't believe it's almost time for the baby to arrive already…"

"I would appreciate a report after the appointment."

"I would appreciate a report after you call Edward."

"I will. I'll call him… today." I had a feeling of urgency wash over me as I realized that if Angela went into real labor this week, I may not get to speak with Edward for quite awhile.

"Good. Text me first. If I'm awake, I'll call you right back."

"'Kay. I love you Angela."

"Love you too Bella. Happy birthday."

I got up from the kitchen table and went back to my bedroom to retrieve my cell phone. Maybe I shouldn't call so early. I brought it back with me to the kitchen, where I laid it on top of the crossword puzzle. I grabbed my creamer from the refrigerator, poured some in my cup and topped it off with the coffee. I turned around and leaned on the counter, taking a precautionary sip. I stared at the cell phone. I waited. I stared at it again. I took another sip.

I pondered many things in those few minutes. A whole cup of coffee's worth of pondering. I poured another cup of coffee and approached the table. I pulled out a scone but realized my stomach had too many butterflies to actually take a bite. I moved the cell phone off the crossword puzzle and started scanning the questions for gimmes. I looked back at the cell phone, which was now on top of a pencil.

Nine down, eight letters… 'mates for life'. I grimaced, then giggled. What did Edward say while we were in the penguin habitat again? I don't know that he ever did. I sketched in P-E-N-G-U-I-N-S.

Twelve down, nine letters… 'European host of 1992 Olympics'. Wow. B-A-R-C-E-L-O-N-A.

It was time to call.

I picked up my cell phone with tremulous hands and flipped it open. New text message to Edward Cullen:

_I think I'm ready now. BTW, it's Bella._

Finger shaking, I hit send.

Well. The ball is in his court now. Immediately the butterflies turned to knots and I had to stand up. I'd finished my second cup of coffee so I went to get more. I really should eat something. All this coffee was going to burn a hole in my stomach…

_BUZZ BUZZ_

I spun around, almost spilling my coffee. Maybe it was Eric, I rationalized. I stared at the cell phone. The caller ID declared: _Edward Cullen._

_BUZZ BUZZ_

I picked up the phone and stared at it. _Edward Cullen._

_BUZZ BUZZ_

_Edward Cullen_

It stopped buzzing. Oh no! It probably went to voice mail. I hoped beyond hope he'd hung up before hearing my immature voicemail message prompt… "Leave me a compliment after the beep." I waited a moment but never saw the voicemail message envelope pop up on the cell's screen. I internally berated myself and placed the cell phone back on the table. Why didn't I just pick up the phone? _If_ he should ever call again, I would pick up. I'd better be careful—I was making a lot of promises today.

_BUZZ BUZZ_

_Edward Cullen_

Edward! I flipped open the phone too quickly, sending it clamoring to the floor. I fell down trying to retrieve it. "Ow! Hello? Hello!" My excitement level was far too high as was the pitch in my voice.

"Isabella, good morning." His voice was like… proper words failed me…

"Good morning to you, Edward. I hope I didn't text too early."

"It's never too early to text or call. I don't sleep. Did you hurt yourself? You said…"

"Ow, yes. I, well, I dropped my phone and took a dive after it."

He laughed softly. "I wished I could've been there to see that."

"If you would've been here, you wouldn't have seen it because I wouldn't dive for anyone else's call but yours…" my voice trailed off.

Oh. My. God. Did that just come out of my mouth?!

"Well then, the next time I'm at your apartment, I'll be sure to call you from another room to test your hypothesis." He was smiling his brilliant smile. I knew it and I ached that I couldn't see it.

I took Angela's advice and let him take the lead. "So… well… um… I'm calling you." I started playing with the hem of my pajama bottoms. I remained on the floor as it seemed the safest place to be right now.

"You called and I'm very glad you did, especially today. I need to see you… um… would love to see you. Tonight, perhaps? Unless you have plans, that is." Was _he_ stammering?

"I would but today is, well, today is…" He didn't need to know it was my birthday.

"If today doesn't work for you, what about tomorrow?" He was clearly interested in seeing me. And I didn't know if I would be on a plane to Seattle tomorrow.

Wait. I didn't have anything planned besides devouring the box of scones. "You know what Edward, today would be just fine. What time are you thinking?"

"The sun goes down at 8:43 today, so would 9:00 be alright?" How peculiar and fascinating that he knew the exact time the sun set.

"That would be fine. What did you have in mind?" I gulped as quietly as I could.

"I have two things planned for us, but you must choose the third thing: the restaurant. I don't have much of a preference in regards to food. I will probably be too nervous to eat much anyway." My face became hot at the implication of his words.

"I can get us a reservation at my restaurant, Katrina's." Now he knew both places where I was employed. "But it's a formal restaurant…" I didn't want him to show up in jeans and a t-shirt if a suit jacket was required. But I wouldn't mind at all if he did…

"Sounds perfect." His smile radiated over the phone. "I am so sorry to have to cut our call short. We are about to board."

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't realize you weren't in Manhattan. Would you like to do this some other time? You are sure to be tired…"

He laughed softly. "I'm leaving Chicago to arrive at LaGuardia in about two and a half hours. I had some business here and a few sensitive items to bring back. I promise to take a nap during the flight." He laughed again.

"Okay, if you're sure." I tried to give him an out, but I realized that I wanted to see him too. "Organs?" I blurted, remembering suddenly that he was a UNOS doctor and that's what he meant by sensitive items.

"Pardon? Oh, yes, I'll be bringing back… organs. A favor, if I may?"

"Certainly."

"If I'm napping, you should too. I intend to keep you out late tonight Isabella."

This gulp was harder to mask. I had to clear my throat. "Have a safe flight Edward. See you at nine." Somehow I squeaked out the words.

I snapped my phone shut, grateful I was on the cold floor still. I squealed in delight, I've never squealed in delight for any reason, ever. I immediately sent Angela a text: _TONIGHT!_ Then I dialed Eric because if I was going on a date, I was sure to need his help.

"Happy birthday Bella. Did you need me to pick something up for you?"

My throat was dry… "Eric… I have a date… tonight. With Edward!"

"Oh, dear Lord child, this is a Christmas miracle in September! Do you know how long I've waited for this day to arrive? Don't you worry about a thing, I know just what to do. What time is he picking you up?"

"Nine… Eric… I don't know what to…"

"I've had my eye on this blue dress and I think it would look fabulous on you. I'll pick it up along with a wax kit and a gloss for your hair. Do you still have those Kate Spade slingbacks I got for you?"

"Umm… I think so…" I couldn't form an articulate thought, how was I supposed to remember?

"Don't worry about it. Okay, I'll be home in an hour. Stay away from the scones, as I won't have time to alter your dress. Bye." Wow, this makeover started to sound a bit… military.

I sat on the floor a bit longer, a nervous smile forming on my face. A million thoughts fought for priority in my head. The fact that it was my birthday no longer bothered me. This was the perfect way to start another year.

Eric arrived home with two armloads of supplies and a dress bag that contained a dress he wouldn't allow me to see until after I'd showered. He waxed my legs and eyebrows, dipped my rough spots in paraffin wax and applied a gloss to my hair after giving it a much-needed trim.

We giggled with Angela over the speakerphone. They acted like proud parents getting ready to send their little girl off to the prom, only this time _hoping_ she would get laid. They even tried to talk to me about sex before I cut them off at the pass.

"You guys, it hasn't been _that _long since I've been with someone. And even that, it won't happen tonight. We're just getting to know each other, really. I don't even know if he's interested in me that way. Just please, drop it." And they left it at that, thankfully. But a whole crop of mental seeds had been planted in a recently untouched field, regardless.

I sent Garrett a text asking for a reservation for 9:30. He texted back that the corner booth would be reserved just for us, no matter the time. I couldn't help but smile as everything seemed to be falling neatly into place.

Eric made me a cup of chamomile tea at 5 and I laid down for a nap. I dreamed of Edward, of course. He was so present in my waking thoughts that there was no way I could not. In previous dreams he's always taken a protective stance over me, but never more than that, never even touching. This time was much different, much more erotic. Our limbs were tangled, our bodies shifting slowly against the others'. We never kissed in my dream. He would not break eye contact with me and I couldn't take my eyes off of him.

I awoke slowly, much too aroused in my waking state. I was almost pained; the elusive sensation was so strong. I realized suddenly that Edward was here, somewhere in the city. His proximity set off another wave of painful arousal. Was I even awake? I lumbered out of my bed, grabbed a towel and headed for the bathroom. Eric left me a note on the bathroom sink… '_Text me when you're done showering, I'm at the coffee shop'_.

Unbeknownst to him, Eric gave me the opportunity at relief that I'd hoped for. That I needed. I piled my hair on top of my head and secured it with a clip. I stepped out of my clothes and into the shower, the hot spray hitting my back and relaxing me instantly.

I let my mind wander back to the dream and imagined that I was not alone, that Edward was standing behind me. I grabbed my freesia and lavender scented body wash, imagining that the slick hands working me into a lather were not my own. I envisioned what his bronze hair would look like wet, black tendrils falling over his forehead, his chin resting on my shoulder so he could get a better view of where his hands travelled.

After a few moments I turned to face the shower's spray. My newly waxed thighs were beyond sensitive as the hot water trickled between them, taking me by surprise and nearly toppling me. I grabbed onto the leverage bar – as Eric liked to refer to it – to steady myself for a moment before realizing this could be to my advantage.

I timorously raised one of my legs and let out a loud gasp as the water hit my sensitivity much more directly. Within mere moments, the gasping sounds emanating from me could no longer be restrained as I felt a flourish of humming sensations hit me again and again. Ahh, sweet release. I collapsed against the cold shower wall and relished in that contrasting sensation as well.

I turned off the water and smiled to myself. Realizing that I would see Edward in just over an hour, I instantly became embarrassed. What would I say to him now that I'd just fantasized about him? _Thanks for the help, I really needed that?_

I tucked a towel around myself and headed for my room. I picked up my cell phone to see that I'd missed two texts while I was in the shower. Both were from Edward:

_I wish I could see you right now. _

and,

_What's the latest you've ever stayed awake?_

I blushed. There's no way he could know the implications of his words and what I just did. I swear he can read my mind.

With trembling hands, I texted Eric the all clear. And after a moment's hesitation, I sent Edward a coy reply:

_It feels like you're already here._

_

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_

**A/N: **Just to reiterate... thank you **Mrs. TheKing**. Thank you to for putting together a thank you event!


	9. Chapter 9: Paparazzi

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: **I couldn't do this without **NotEvenTheTrees**, I wouldn't want to_. _That is all.

* * *

Eric completed his work on me at about 8:30, so I ended up pacing the floor for almost a half hour. Really, it was a good thing as I needed practice walking around in the heels he insisted I wear. Eric explained that they were modest heels. The four inch heel and one inch bottom looked anything but modest to me. But I had seen heels much higher on the patrons at Katrina's. And Eric kept going on about how they made me appear taller and leaner, so I couldn't complain. That Kate Spade knew a thing or two about comfort.

At exactly 8:59, the intercom buzzed. I could see him at the doorway, his eyes wary of the camera's lens. I smiled as I realized he was holding flowers. Eric came with me to the bottom of the stairs.

I opened the entryway door and stepped out into the dimming light. Edward backed down the landing steps. We were nearly at eye level. I frowned that the space between us widened. He looked me up and down unabashedly. "Isabella, you are… perfect."

"Twirl!" Eric exclaimed and I jumped, completely forgetting that he was still beside me. He took my hand and twirled me like a ballerina. I got the giggles until my heel caught the edge of the step and I began to fall. Edward's hands caught me steadily about the waist, sending a surprising spark of electricity through me. He dropped the flowers as a result of his efforts.

"Oh my g… oh I'm so sorry Edward." I stammered, my hands on his capable shoulders. What a way to start the evening.

"No apology necessary. Look, they're fine." He handed me the small bouquet of freesia and lavender tied with a simple white bow. "Their scent reminds me of you," he said simply. I buried my face in the bouquet, recalling the last time I'd smelled the aroma and my face instantly burned, as did my ears and chest. I was thankful that the natural light was dimming. That is until the instant the harsh street lights turned on.

Eric cleared his throat before asking if he could take the flowers upstairs for me. I pulled a sprig of lavender and a small freesia bud from the bunch and put them in Edward's lapel, then handed the bouquet to Eric. "Thank you." I turned and smiled to Eric, who beamed back.

Eric shook Edward's hand and said, "Take care of my birthday princess." I shook my head slightly at him, indicating that I hadn't yet told Edward that it was my birthday.

But Edward did not look surprised, he just smiled and returned Eric's handshake. "I most certainly will Eric. But I can't promise that I'll have your princess back before midnight."

"Good," Eric winked, turned to give me a kiss on the cheek and headed through the doors and up the stairs.

"So…" Edward began.

"I didn't tell you it was my birthday because I didn't want it to be a big deal… no pressure or anything."

"Isabella, your birth is certainly something to celebrate. I feel fortunate for you to include me in such a momentous occasion." His smile was genuine and I couldn't help but smile as well. "You didn't break any commitments for me, did you?"

I shook my head no. _I did have a date with a box of cranberry cream cheese scones, but I would gladly give them up for an evening with you,_ I thought.

"Well, let me have a look at you," I teased as I took a step back and began waving my finger in a circle. "Twirl!" I admired his appearance: a navy blue button-up under a dark grey twill suit jacket. Edward turned around slowly and upon his return he held out his hand, which held a small baby blue box.

I let out an audible gasp and brought my hands to my mouth reflexively. "What?" Was all I could manage to mumble.

"I hope this isn't awkward, Isabella. I saw this and immediately thought of you." I didn't reach for it; I was too stunned. "Won't you open it?"

"Umm… I don't… know…" This seemed far too… too perfect. No man brings a woman jewelry on a first date. Something didn't seem… right.

"If it puts your mind at ease, I borrowed it from my friend Elsa. You can wear it for the evening if you'd like."

Knowing that he borrowed it did put my mind at ease somewhat. Now the curiosity was overwhelming and I allowed him to place the small box in my hand, his cool fingertips grazing my palm. I slid off the thin white ribbon to open the box. Ever so gently, I removed the lid from the Tiffany's box. Nestled within was a beautiful circular blue stone attached to a thin silver chain.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Edward insisted, a frown pulling his eyebrows down.

"It's… umm… beautiful is not an accurate enough word Edward…"

"Please forgive my forwardness, but hearing my name spill from your lips is simply enthralling." He looked directly in my eyes. I noticed then how dark his eyes were. The lack of light did not reflect their color properly. "May I?"

I took the pendant from the box and handed it to him. I turned around and lifted my hair so that he could latch the necklace clasp. The cool smooth stone nestled in the hollow where the base of my throat met my collarbone. His cool fingers trailed from the necklaces' clasp down my spine to the top of my dress. I shivered at the dual sensations and dropped my hair.

"I'm… I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself," he confessed. I smiled and turned to face him, the blush under my skin only deepening. He seemed to be struggling to breathe but that only lasted a moment before he was impeccably composed again. I was struggling to breathe as well. I wanted him to touch me, to feel that electricity again, but at the same time I just wasn't ready.

My fingers fumbled with the pendant. "What kind of stone is it?"

"Lapis lazuli. It has been said that the stone possesses many benefits that it conveys to the wearer: self-confidence, truthfulness, openness and inner tranquility. A warning, however." Never taking his eyes off me, he reached up to touch the stone and touched my own fingers instead. "For a beginner it can be quite scary and create a feeling of panic. You may feel as if you are losing touch with your body completely."

My mouth was slightly open and I was sucking breath into my lungs. "Is that… is that so?"

"Oh, yes. You can Google it. Impressed?" He smiled slightly. It was adorable. "What time are our dinner reservations?"

"They're for 9:30 but the time is flexible."

"How would you feel about going to listen to some music first?"

"That sounds good. I'm not really hungry yet."

He laughed lowly. "Me either." He offered me his hand as he helped me down the remaining steps to his car. Upon our approach, a young man stepped out of the car and made his way around to open my door. "I've got this one Seth, thank you." It took me a moment to realize who he was.

Edward's driver is called Seth. A Seth tried to offer me a ride all those weeks ago after I saw Edward for the first time, climbing into the back of that ambulance. They were the same person. I tried to quell the feeling of panic that was slowly rising in me: that I had fallen into an elaborate trap of sorts.

"Of course, Dr. Cullen," Seth smiled at me and made his way back to the driver's side. Edward placed his hand on the small of my back and reached around to open the door for me. I slid in as gracefully as I could manage before he closed the door behind me.

The interior of the car was rich black leather and the tint in the windows made the outside appear black as midnight. I looked to the steering wheel, recognizing the winged symbol as that of an Aston Martin. I wanted the sense of foreboding to stop but my heart was pounding.

Seth opened Edward's door and then got into the driver's seat. Edward looked at me and stated simply, "I would like to apologize in advance."

I frowned, wondering if he was going to reveal his true intentions. "Apologize? What for?"

"I am finding myself at a loss for words. There are so many things I wish to express but I am having a hard time getting beyond your beauty. Please do not think ill of me if I fall silent. I will not hide anything from you. If there is anything you want to know, all you have to do is ask."

As much as I wanted to believe his words, I was more interested in protecting myself. "Only one question comes to mind right _now_. Where are you taking me?" I tried to take my cell phone out of my clasp as calmly as possible. "I want to let Eric know where I'll be." Edward needed to know that he couldn't pull anything funny, that someone was looking out for me.

"Canal Room at 285 West Broadway." He said, loud enough for Seth to hear his directions.

"Really?" My enthusiasm betrayed me as I dropped the phone and looked at him. "Who are we going to see?"

As he reached down to pick up my phone for me, the back of his hand brushed against my ankle. "That, Isabella, is a surprise. Please, trust me. You will not be disappointed."

I smiled, weakly this time. I sank back into the leather and closed my eyes trying to calm myself. The knots in my stomach were predominate and I tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to gather my wits about me.

"May I touch you?" Edward whispered, leaning on his right side, his body almost completely facing mine.

"Excuse me?" My eyes flew open as my head snapped forward.

"I would like to help you relax, if I may."

"Sorry?" I asked again, having no idea where he was leading.

"You just seem tense. I want you to enjoy our evening as much as possible."

"Oh, um, okay. Sure, I guess."

Edward moved his right hand towards my right hand, not to hold it, but to grasp my wrist. I panicked, thinking he was going to restrain me. I jerked my hand away.

"I apologize, let me explain please. You have noticed, I'm sure, my hands are cold. By placing my hand on the Pericardium of your inner wrist, it will alleviate some of your tension."

I smiled weakly at him. "Google?"

"No, Dartmouth Medical School." My smile widened and I gave him back my arm. Not five seconds after he placed his fingers around my wrist, I began to feel better.

~*~*~

We arrived at the Canal Room at 10 p.m. I went to open my door but Edward admonished me to wait. He got out of his door and opened mine, offering me his hand to help me out. I was surprised when I stepped onto the sidewalk that there was a line waiting to get in. And I was bewildered by the small group of paparazzi waiting there. This is New York, not LA.

But I was stunned to see that they were taking _our_ picture. I could not hide my confusion. Perhaps Edward was famous? It would not surprise me at this point.

He put his arm around my shoulder protectively as we made our way up the walkway to the entrance. I was used to standing at the end of the line. Halfway there, a photographer shouted at me, "Who are you?" I looked up at Edward who wore a wide smile yet put his finger to his lips to signal my reticence.

Just inside the doorway, we were met by an eager hostess who recognized Edward immediately. "Edward!" she practically squealed. "I have the VIP table reserved for you and your beautiful guest. It is the nearest to the stage, just as you asked."

"Thank you," he passed her a bill that I was fortunate not to see the amount of. "Isabella?" He inquired patiently after catching me drinking in the sights. I'd wanted to come here numerous times to see musical acts perform. "Follow me," he reached for my hand and led me through the crowded room towards the raised VIP platform just to the left of the stage. We sat down at a small table where there was a flask of water and something of the bubbly sort on ice.

It was almost impossible to hear each other over the various loud conversations, so I leaned in to try to ask Edward what the photographers were after. "Why were they taking our picture? Are you famous?"

He shook his head as if he were unable to hear me. As I began to repeat myself, he moved slightly so that his cheek was touching mine, his mouth to my ear and my mouth to his. "No, they were not after _my _picture, Isabella." I could feel the smile on his face as he continued. "You must not be very self-aware. They thought your beauty was indicative of celebrity." I shifted back in my seat in order to see the look on his face. He was being serious.

I shook my head as he pulled me closer again. "You can't know that," I admonished.

"I do, I have a sense about these things." He shifted his face to look at me again, tapping his finger on his temple. He leaned in again to speak. "I will have Seth pick us up at the back exit, if it will put your mind at ease." Keeping my face close to his, I nodded my head and smiled awkwardly as the lights began to go down.

I could feel his chilled breath on my ear and we both froze. He slowly moved his hand to my throat and then slipped it under my hair around to the back of my neck, his thumb grazing my jaw line before resting behind my ear. His cool touch was a relief. I placed my hand on his lapel, slowly moving it to his chest, hoping that his heart was racing as fast as mine was. He moved my hand to his mouth, kissing it softly then sighed as he backed away. "The show is starting."

I hadn't even noticed as I looked past him at the stage where final sound checks were being completed. The music the band had been warming up to was _real _music, not just an internal looping soundtrack.

Then the lights came up, illuminating the stage and its occupants.

I couldn't believe it.

The Rescues.

Edward brought me to see The Rescues.

I tried to sit patiently and act grown up. I really tried. But I was too excited and too into the music.

"Please feel free to move towards the stage," Edward suggested, probably tired of my fidgeting like a child in church. I took up post just in front of Kyler and Gabriel. I sang along with all my might, with reckless abandon even. There is something freeing about opening yourself to the experience and not giving a damn who was watching you, although I knew I was being watched.

Every time I looked over at Edward, he was leaning forward in his seat, watching me. Before the last song of the evening, he motioned for me to join him again. Just as they began to sing "My Heart With You," I reached him. He took my hand and placed an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him until our chests touched. Again, I shivered at the contact. The heat from my body was a sharp contrast to the chill of his.

"May I have this dance?" he whispered in my ear. I nodded my consent. We swayed for a few moments in silence, his hands about my waist and my wrists touching the nape of his neck as covertly as possible. I couldn't get over how perfect the evening had been. The flowers, the jewelry, the music. I was just trying to take it all in and there was still more evening to look forward to.

"Would you like to meet them after the show?" Edward asked, breaking my reflections.

I turned to look at him, once again surprised and amazed at what he seemed to be capable of. "That would be amazing Edward." He smiled and I leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek, letting the tip of my nose linger on his cheekbone. I wanted to thank him in some small way. For tonight, for Charlie's guitar… for seeming to be trustworthy. "Thank you... for…"

"You're welcome Isabella, happy birthday."

I realized then that we hadn't been dancing at all. It was just a long embrace.

"I've always loved this song," I sighed. "Do you know where Adrianne came up with the idea?"

Edward sighed and shook his head.

"It was inspired by a story about a vampire pirate and his mortal love, someone he had lost many years ago and was trying desperately to find. I think that it's beautifully irrational and inexplicably sad. Don't you?" I turned to look at him, gauging his reaction. I hoped he wouldn't think less of me, bringing up stories about silly things like vampires and pirates.

"May I…" Edward started, but then stopped. Before I could prompt him to continue, he spoke. "Isabella, may I kiss you?"

I felt so conflicted. I wanted to feel something other than fear. I wanted to know what my dreams had yet to convey—the feeling of his lips on mine. Giving into what I wanted, letting the fear go, I nodded, swallowing hard.

He placed one finger on the shell of my ear, slowly trailing it down my earlobe, my jaw line and finally resting it under my chin, pulling me closer to him. When he was close enough to be out of focus, I closed my eyes. His cool lips touched mine for the briefest of moments. He inhaled deeply, as if he could taste me just by scent alone. He kissed me briefly once more before backing away.

Not wanting it to stop, I placed my hand on the back of his neck, threading my fingers through the hair the fine hair there, pulling him back to me. I captured his lower lip between mine, tasting his icy sweetness and wanting more. I couldn't be sure if the moan I heard emanated from him or me.

He rocked back on his heels, where I could no longer reach him. He placed his cool forehead on mine. "More, later. I promise you that," he said, voice full of desire. "For now, let me see what I can arrange."

The set had ended and the crowd had begun to disperse. I hadn't even noticed. He held out a chair and motioned for me to sit down before he stepped away. I grabbed the flask and poured myself some water, drinking it down quickly. Despite the peculiar ache of thirst, I could still taste Edward on my tongue. In fact, I could still feel his cool hand on my jaw. I berated myself for taking the kiss too far, but at the same time wondering why I couldn't seem to resist.

Not only did I get a chance to meet Kyler, I got to meet Gabriel, Adrianne and Rob as well. They were all so lovely and willing to talk with me. Edward kept pace in the conversation too, occasionally putting his hand on my wrist, helping to keep me calm. Kyler mentioned my necklace at one point, saying that she'd seen it at Tiffany's but it was a bit out of her price range. I smiled shyly and said it was a loaner. Edward and Kyler shared a peculiar nod and immediately dropped the subject.

We left Canal Room through the back exit at about 11:30. I turned to Edward and smiled, asking if he was hungry to which he replied, "Ravenous."

**

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END A/N:** I appreciate my readers and reviewers so very much. It's exciting to know that others are invested in what **NotEvenTheTrees** and I have put so much time and effort into. I want to encourage reviews but if there are any specific questions you want to ask, just PM me here on ff. I'm also on twitter as llynn20ff. That leaves a little of the mystery intact for those who don't want to know just yet. Thanks!


	10. Chapter 10: Lie to Me

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: **Thank you to my awesome beta, **NotEvenTheTrees**, for falling for "Bug Your Beta on Her Vacation" Day.

* * *

I never got used to the notion that New Yorkers ate so late at night, but here we were, just before midnight, seated at Katrina's. I ordered the mushroom ravioli and Edward ordered the French onion soup with a bottle of Pinot Noir for us to drink.

"My mother made the best French onion soup when I was a child. I have yet to taste its equal. I have to admit I haven't attempted to try another's recipe. I wonder if I will enjoy it as much now that I'm older," Edward mentioned, after placing his order.

"I can't vouch for today's onions, but I'm sure Laurent selected only the best Vidalias." I ventured into personal information territory. "Where did you grow up, Edward? Not many kids enjoy soup. Most kids like macaroni and cheese or McDonald's."

"I was born and raised in Chicago but I've traveled the world since I was… umm… about eighteen."

We were interrupted by Kate herself, who brought out our dishes. I introduced her to Edward and she smiled warmly to him before turning to me with a considerable grin which caused me to blush. "I'll tell Garrett that you won't be in early tomorrow Bella."

As I began to protest, I looked at Edward who was nodding in agreement. I smiled my thank you to Kate, who mentioned that the live entertainment was going to be ending soon before turning from the table to return to the kitchen.

We began to eat in silence. I never understood why, but eating in front of someone for the first time is so uncomfortable. I became hyper aware of my arms and hands and fingers, as I feared that I might bump into something or spill something. I was certain that something would end up on my gorgeous dress.

"Kate is beautiful," he murmured after a few minutes of quiet.

I blanched and snapped before I could stop myself. "Kate is married; didn't you see the ring?" I thought it was quite odd of him to say something like that, especially when he was on a date with me. I wanted to blend into the upholstery.

"You misunderstand me, Isabella. Kate is beautiful, but she knows it and is confident in her beauty. She sees you as you are usually, with your chef's uniform on, and she is not intimidated by you. Kate is unsettled by you now because your beauty overwhelms hers on her best day. She fears your potential, so much so that she is going to make sure that her husband does not look upon your form tonight." He raised an eyebrow.

I stammered. "You can't know that, just by talking to her once. Wait… she told you that I work in the kitchen?"

He tapped his fingertip on his temple, "I have a sense about these things, remember?" He smiled warmly. "Would you excuse me for a moment? If the server returns, tell him I am finished."

"Was it alright? Would you like something else?" I felt a bit embarrassed; he had hardly touched his soup. Garrett's French onion soup was usually pretty popular.

"It was fine. It just wasn't…"

"Wasn't as good as you remember your mother's being?" I finished his sentence for him, understanding what he meant. Sometimes what you have now will never be as good as what you had before. I wondered silently if he had that with someone else before me, and it made me sad.

He took my hand in his, and kissed my knuckles. "That is it exactly." He slid out of the booth and looked at me beseechingly. Assuming he'd never been here before, I pointed in the general direction of the men's restroom, just past the now-vacant baby grand piano.

I took another drink of my wine and placed my folded cloth napkin over my plate. The server came over quickly and took our dishes. I asked him to refrigerate mine. He looked at me, puzzled. "I work here too. I'll take it in the morning." He frowned, uncomprehending. "It's me. Bella. The morning prep manager?" The young man looked me up and down and smiled slyly while raising an eyebrow, comprehension dawning on him. "Thank you…" My tone invited him to leave.

_BUZZ BUZZ_

I reached for my clutch so I could read the incoming text message. There was none. I closed the phone and frowned. Was it Edward's phone? I looked around the table and couldn't find anything. I looked under the table in time to see the light fading from his phone on the bench upon which he had just been seated.

I picked it up to see a new text message from an Alice and I frowned. Why would a woman be sending Edward a text past midnight? I could only think of one reason and my shoulders slumped.

I waited patiently for a few minutes, thinking that Edward had taken this opportunity to make his escape. I took a sip of wine and started picking my fingernails under the table. Only when the most beautiful piano composition started did I look up. It was Edward. He was staring straight at me.

I was instantly torn. The music made me want to join Edward at the piano. How could a room so crowded feel so empty? I felt like I was the only person in the room and Edward was sitting right beside me rather than across the restaurant.

As much as I wanted to be near him, I resisted. I needed a little distance; a little perspective. I stayed put.

My mind began to wander, trying to process this new development. Was Alice his girlfriend? Or worse, his wife? Was it just the thrill of the hunt for him? The whole evening _had_ been beyond perfect. Before I could stop it, my emotional shield was up, standing guard over my heart and me. I hated my imagination.

His composition was short, as if he was just limbering up his fingers. I began to fumble with the borrowed necklace, which was, to my surprise, cold to the touch. I attempted to recall what he had said about the properties of lapis lazuli. Something about self-confidence and inner tranquility? Mental calmness? I sure could use some of the mental calmness part. Feeling like you're losing touch? Check.

Of course I was losing touch! I was creating all sorts of scenarios wherein this beautiful, talented and secure man was interested in me. And obviously I wasn't the only person thinking these thoughts about him; he could be pursuing other women during his various travels. _Who the hell is this Alice?!?_

But, I am damaged goods, after all; not someone worthy of affection in general.

_Stop it, Bells._

With a deep sigh, I resolved to just try and enjoy the rest of this evening. I hoped that Edward wouldn't question my now weary eyes.

As he finished his song, I began applauding only to realize that there were only three people left in the dining area. The two of us and Kate, who was in the other corner booth wrapping cloth napkins over silverware.

Edward's eyes met mine as he walked towards our table. Try as I might, I couldn't look away. It was then that I realized that I didn't actually know the color of his eyes. They were always so dark and we were in low light situations every time I was close enough to see them. Had I never actually seen him during the day?

"Tell me what you're thinking," he requested, sitting down.

Of course I couldn't tell him what I was thinking. My thought patterns were all over the map. Instead, "I'm thinking of having dessert," I stated simply. "What about you Edward, what are _you_ thinking?"

"I'm thinking I'd like to play a game while you have dessert." His smile was coy.

Kate approached our table. "Did I hear something about dessert? How does an espresso gelato sound?"

Edward's smile widened. "Whatever it takes to keep her awake sounds good to me."

I looked at him and cocked my eyebrow. Kate excused herself and walked towards the kitchen.

"The game I would like us to play has very simple rules. It's called 'Two Truths and a Lie'. Have you ever heard of it?"

"Is it like Truth or Dare?" I immediately hoped not. Because I would always choose truth over dare and I wasn't sure if I could reveal more details than I already had. I'd always been a horrible liar.

"It's an adult version of that, without the daring. We'll play a little differently since it's just you and I. We will each make three statements about ourselves, one of them being a lie, if you so choose. Traditionally, someone will guess which one is the lie. We'll leave the lie a mystery. What do you think?"

As Edward described the game, I came up with a series of the most trivial facts I could think of on short notice. "That sounds like… fun." I wasn't enthused about talking about myself, but, on the other hand, I was very eager to learn something about him.

"Ahem," Garrett cleared his throat as he handed me the espresso gelato. I smiled at him, surprised that he was still there so late. It was then I saw something in Garrett's demeanor that I never had before. I couldn't put my finger on the reason for the shift.

Kate bound out of the kitchen. "Garrett, I said I'd take the gelato…" Kate stopped short and smiled again, albeit more forced than before. I introduced him to Edward who was eyeing Garrett warily.

"Dinner is on the house," Garrett whispered to me.

"I insist," Edward offered Kate a crisp bill. "No change, thank you."

Kate took the bill quickly and grasped Garrett's hand firmly. "We are leaving for the night, Bella. Would you mind locking up?"

I nodded, feeling uneasy at the prospect in being completely alone with Edward, so I said to no one in particular, "I'll be sure to disarm the panic button before setting the security system."

"Goodnight Bella, Edmund," Garrett mumbled.

"It was nice meeting you Gabriel," Edward replied, pursing his lips and turning back to me. As soon as the kitchen door swung shut, Edward whispered to me, "See?"

I shrugged. "Garrett was just surprised at how I was dressed, that's all. Being a produce manager isn't as glamorous as being, say, a doctor."

"Yes, because navy blue scrubs trump a white chef's uniform any day of the week," Edward countered. I smiled in spite of myself. "Now, are you ready to play?"

"Yes, I think so. You go first so I can eat this before it melts." Edward smiled patiently, waiting for me to take the first bite. His eyes lingered on the spoon, making my face turn crimson.

Breaking from his reverie, he began, "One, my parents both died when I was seventeen and I was adopted by the Cullen family." My spoon clattered into my bowl, shocked that he would start with such a personal statement. He continued, "Two, I moved to Europe after turning eighteen and lived there for six years."

"That explains your accent. You said you grew up in Chicago and they don't have English accents in Chicago," I interrupted. "Oh, sorry." I had forgotten that he was allowed to lie.

"Three, I am over a century old."

I laughed. "That explains why you have a driver. No way would they allow someone over 100 years old to have a driver's license." At that he pulled out his license, which was plainly from the state of Washington. I knew this because mine used to look exactly the same before I traded it in for a New York license at my twenty-first birthday the year before. He put the license away before I could get a better look at it.

"Your turn."

I pushed my bowl away and rested my arms on the table. I thought for a moment before beginning. "Okay, one, my mother and her husband live in Florida where he is a minor league baseball player. Two, I received a certificate from a local culinary school but I prefer to be a produce-slash-prep manager." I forgot to lie, so I made one up quickly, "Three, umm, Eric is my twin brother." Good thing we weren't playing strip poker. I'd have lost all my clothes by now.

Edward raised an eyebrow at my last submission. Eric was Asian. I sure the heck was not. He cleared his throat, "Okay then. One," I didn't realize we were continuing and I hoped we were done. I'd have to come up with more to say. Then again, perhaps Edward would reveal more as well. "I cannot go out into direct sunlight and have, um, circulation problems, hence my cold skin. Two, my irises are red and change color depending on how hungry I am and the mood I'm in. I wear dark contacts or sunglasses so I don't alarm anyone." I stifled a laugh, as this was the obvious lie. He allowed me a moment to laugh until his demeanor changed to something infinitely more remorseful as he said, "Three, I have been in love only once, but she died years ago."

My face fell immediately and I instinctually reached for his hand. I didn't want to pry, but they couldn't have been very old if it was years ago. "I'm very sorry Edward," I offered. I was surprised at myself for reaching out to touch him for the first time. He'd been the only one to make that effort thus far.

"I just wanted you to know, I suppose. I know what it's like to fall in love. To have that feeling of, well, immortality, for lack of a better word. I just know…" His voice trailed off. I wasn't sure if he wanted to continue so I waited. "Isabella, your turn."

What could I say after that? It was so unfair, what he'd had to go through in his short life. The deaths of his parents and the love of his life in quick succession were unconscionable to me. Lamely, I began with my lie, "I love rap music." That brought a smile to his face. But what could I reveal? I don't think he'd be dishonest about death, so I continued, "Two, um, oh! I traveled through Europe the year after I graduated high school with my best friends Angela, Ben and Eric…"

"You mean brother Eric," he corrected with a grin.

"Oh yes, brother, right." I returned his smile. "And three, umm, I work at a bookstore for their discount and recently bought a book on World War I to do some research on a family member. Do you remember?" I took a sip from my glass.

His face fell slightly, "That's been weeks ago now. I've already finished it and given it to my little sister Alice," he said, just as I swallowed the wine.

Coughing, I managed, "Edward, would you excuse me for a moment?" He nodded and I practically sprinted to the restroom. I stepped inside and looked at myself in the mirror, unable to hide my beaming smile.

Alice? Alice! That was his sister, not another love interest!

I made a high-pitched squeaking noise, I was so excited. My insecurities, my negative thoughts, my so-called emotional shield, they could take the night off! He was honest with me. Alice was his sister. He had not tried to harm me in any way. I was safe, I was fine.

I looked again at the mirror and saw the lapis lazuli as it lay on my collarbone. Edward was right about its magical healing abilities. In that moment, I felt completely healed. And, for a reason I couldn't comprehend, I wanted to tell the truth too. Something deep down told me he would stick around to hear it. I smiled widely at my reflection, instantly seeing Charlie's smile in my own.

_That's right, Bells._

I walked back out of the restroom and found that Edward had returned to the piano. I stood there for a moment, allowing myself to drink him in a little more than before. His eyes were dark and while there were the softest of shadows beneath them, he did not appear tired. He saw me and finished his song. As he sat facing the piano, I sat beside him on the bench with my back to the keys.

"One more round?" He asked. I nodded. "You can begin this time."

"All right." I sat for a moment, knowing that these last two truths would have the most implication. "One, I love to dance." Of course that wasn't true. I tripped just turning around. I paused again, wanting to phrase this correctly and get it off my chest at the same time. "Two, I thought I was in love once, until I returned home from Europe to find that love means different things to different people." I bowed my head as Edward reached for my hand.

"Three?" He asked, encouraging me to continue.

"Charlie, whose guitar you saved, is my father. He died the day before I graduated from high school. In the almost four years since I have yet to visit his grave." Tears pooled, but I tried to force them back down. He placed his finger under my chin and looked into my eyes. His held no surprise, only understanding. A choked sob escaped me and he held his arms out, cradling me to his cool chest. He rubbed small, soothing circles on my back and I finally let out all of the tears I'd been holding in for far too long. After several moments, my heightened emotions were sated. I sniffed one last time before righting myself.

I smiled a weak but true smile at him. "Your turn Edward."

He closed his eyes at the sound of his name. When he opened them again, he tenderly brushed a stray tear from my cheek. I blushed. "Since you have correctly deduced that I saved Charlie's guitar, you must also know that I am a vigilante, a philanthropist, and a non-practicing doctor who moonlights, quite literally, for UNOS."

"A vigilante philanthropist, like Batman?" I teased.

"Something like that, but Bruce Wayne does not work in the human organ business," he replied coyly.

"Oh, that's true," I smiled and shrugged my shoulders, which made the necklace shift. The motion did not escape Edward's attention.

"Two, I am seated next to the most beautiful woman in Manhattan."

My breath hitched as he looked me straight in the eye. Compliments were rare, and this one was undoubtedly genuine.

"And finally, I am currently working in a family business that I would now like to leave." I thought of the Cullen family that had adopted him, and his sister Alice. "But leaving this business is difficult and has to be for a very good reason."

"And do you have a very good reason?" I whispered inquiringly.

"I do now." He looked in my eyes and then at my lips. "Shall we go?"

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**A/N: **The playlist is updated on my profile. Bella's outfit and necklace are also on my profile.

p.s. I heart reviews. Leave one?

p.s. pt 2:** sjones5199 **has started a forum for my little story over on **twilighted. **The link is on my profile! Thank you!


	11. Chapter 11: City of Black and White

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: **I will never be able to find enough words to praise **NotEvenTheTrees**, but I will always do my best. She's an awesome author. Check out her profile and stories, please?

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Edward stood up slowly from the piano bench and walked around it to face me. After helping me to my feet, he took a step towards me, so close that I needed to lift my chin to get a good look into his eyes. His hands shifted from mine up the length of my arms until they cradled my face. I longed for him to kiss me but I could not close my eyes.

His fingertips left my face to skim my jaw line, my throat, and then my collarbone until they were abruptly lifted from me. Even the lightest of his touches left a ghost of feeling when it ended. He was so close now that I could not see anything but his face and had no idea where his hands were. I could not look away from his dark red eyes.

I sucked in a breath when I felt his touch again. He had his hands on my waist, his thumbs grazing the nook between my ribs and the underside of my breasts. They trailed farther down again until they were on my waist when he began to squeeze gently, offering his arms to steady me before lifting me to sit on the piano itself.

At first I felt very vulnerable sitting above him, knowing how easily he could harm me, but the look in his eyes gave him away. Somehow, I had the power. No longer hidden by the darkness, the dim light overhead revealed the fire in his eyes, how it smoldered when I was near.

He took a final step closer, and placed himself between my knees, which caused my skirt to ride up on my thighs, nearly exposing me. The heels of my shoes hit the keys of the piano, creating a cacophonous sound that filled the silence, save for my erratic breathing and pounding heart.

Impulsively, recklessly, I reached down and ran my fingers through his rust-colored hair, reveling in the feel of it between my fingers. I immediately recalled kissing him at the end of the concert and knew I needed it again. Now. I placed my fingertips on the nape of his neck and my thumbs on the juncture of his jaw and his earlobes and leaned forward to kiss him.

To my surprise and dismay, he took a step backwards, rejecting me. A frown was plain on my face. "Edward?"

An unbefitting, sinister smile colored his face as he took another step back. He began to vibrate, licking his lips but not in anticipation of a kiss.

I wanted to go to him, shake him hard and tell him to stop scaring me but I was frozen in place. I looked down from the piano to see the carpet was now grass and it was fading away, disappearing. "Edward, help me, please…" I tried to say but nothing would come out of my mouth.

He shook his head as he began laughing a long forgotten laugh. The same baleful laugh that used to make me happy and now only brought tears to my eyes. _Jacob's laugh. _

I sat bolt upright and gulped a lungful of air. I tried to regain my bearings. Where exactly was I? I was outside, on the ground. One by one, I took in my surroundings. Looking up, I noticed the sky was an eerie orange color. Looking down, I noticed there was a blanket underneath me. My shoes were missing, but my toes weren't cold due to a blanket tucked around me. I could smell the grass and felt the moisture in the air. I took a tentative look around me, hearing his low voice before seeing his beautiful face.

"Do you need a moment?"

Startled regardless, I gasped again and brought my hand to my throat, grazing the cool lapis lazuli stone. I nodded my head in resignation.

Just as Edward was about to stand, I reached for his hand and placed it on my inner wrist, halting any further movement. He smiled gently as he gazed at our hands together. I was selfishly grateful for his circulation problems. His cold touch _was_ medicinal.

I closed my eyes for a moment and took several deep breaths to calm myself. Finally, I began to remember where we were and how we got here. We had left Katrina's shortly after playing the 'Two Truths and a Lie' game. Seth took a cab home at midnight, so it was just Edward and I. Not wanting the evening to end any more than me, he asked if I wanted to see a late movie at Bryant Park. I readily agreed.

Edward had blankets, a basket of snacks, beverages, and a citronella candle in the trunk of his Aston Martin. I remember wondering if this was his goal the whole evening.

When we arrived at the park, we sat down on the blanket, ready to watch _Close Encounters of the Third Kind_. He smiled, musing quietly about seeing the movie for the first time with Alice. I laughed that the movie was fifteen years older than we were. Seeing me shiver, he placed the other blanket around my shoulders and I must've fallen asleep shortly thereafter since I didn't remember seeing any of the movie, not even the opening credits nor the Sonoran Desert scene.

I had no idea what time it was but we were alone in the park. His fingers were still holding my wrist firmly but he kept an awkward distance between us. I hoped that I hadn't said anything while sleeping that would make the distance necessary. Eric loved rehashing my dreamland dialogues.

"I'm so sorry Edward." If I'd been sleep talking about that dream I just woke from, I had good reason to be very embarrassed.

"Sorry for what Bella?" Even by the dim candle light, I could tell his eyes were leery.

"For falling asleep, and for obviously saying or doing something that scared you," I said sheepishly.

"You didn't scare me at all. I just didn't want to startle you after you woke up. It can be frightening, waking up beside someone when you aren't used to it."

I nodded my head in agreement, guessing that he was speaking from experience. That scenario had never happened to me, unless it was Eric or Angela trying to comfort me in the night. None of my prior physical encounters had lasted an entire evening. They preferred to walk away. I preferred it as well.

Until now.

"May I sit closer to you?" He asked. I nodded my head again. He left his left hand on my wrist and put his other arm around my waist. We sat there for until I felt more alert, more awake.

"What time is it?" I asked, unsure that I even wanted to know the answer.

"I'm not sure you want to know the answer," he replied. I had to laugh out loud at his continued ability to know exactly what I was thinking. "Would you like to go home now Bella?"

Despite the content of the dream, my nap was just refreshing enough to take the edge off of my exhaustion. I was invigorated enough that I still had the energy to want to be with him. Edward didn't seem tired at all. Perhaps he had a nap as well.

"Not yet," I answered, sure of my decision.

At that, his crooked smile made a reappearance that effectively stopped my heart. He stood up, stepped off the blanket and offered me his hand. "Would you like to dance Bella?"

I frowned at him, which was pretty unfair of me. Everyone who knew me knew also of my propensity for clumsiness and my general inability to dance. Of course Edward didn't know this yet, but he should've had some idea by my earlier display of physical gaucherie on the front steps of my apartment building.

"I can't dance," I admitted.

"Hmm… well." He pulled me out of my seated position anyway. "I could always make you."

"I'm not afraid of you." It was true; physically anyway. My fear dissipated throughout the evening, despite my dream. Having Jacob show up in my dream reaffirmed the fact that I was afraid of what Edward would leave behind when he left.

"You really shouldn't have said that." His smile was furtive as he pulled me closer to him, while simultaneously pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders. I wasn't all that cold, but if it meant he would hold me closer, I didn't mind. He gazed down at me, his eyes black in the low lamplight. "I promised you something earlier this evening, Bella. Do you remember what it was?"

Of course I remembered what it was. The need to kiss him again only intensified with the passage of time. Especially after the illusory dream. Desire spread through me. He flinched a bit when I inadvertently raked my teeth across my bottom lip. Slowly raising his hand, his thumb brushed where my teeth had just touched. He looked in my eyes, asking for the answer to his question. I nodded my head as slowly as I could manage.

His hands were at the nape of my neck, tilting my face upwards. His nose grazed my cheek for an instant before his lips were on mine. This time, with no sounds around us but the distant traffic, the growl that emanated from his throat was evident. It was a thrilling sound but paled in comparison the feel of his lips, the taste of him. He was far less inhibited than at the concert, but never quite kissing as deeply as I wanted.

I needed to be closer to him, and the want was apparent as I began to move impossibly closer. The blanket slipped from my shoulders as my hands sought to feel his back, his chest, his anything. I grabbed the lapel of his jacket, pulling him into me, as he angled himself lower, reaching for the fallen blanket and enveloping me with it.

He broke the kiss much too soon, backing away from me. My hand, left stretched in front of me, still seeking him out, fell limply to my side as I tried to catch my breath. Thankfully the atmosphere around him was saturated with his woodsy scent and I breathed it in, reveling in it.

He backed away from me enough to pull something small from his jacket pocket. Seeing the metal flash in the dim light, I realized it was an iPod. It didn't look like any iPod I'd seen before. He placed a wireless ear bud in my ear and the other in his own and maneuvered his menu to a playlist that said "Isabella." The song was familiar but a little forgotten: "Falling for You" by Seabird. He pulled me into an embrace, and led me to dance slowly.

_I hope this song brings you back to life  
'Cause I can see the fear in those eyes  
I promise you if we just try__  
We'll take this wrong and make it right_

_'Cause I'm falling__  
I've fallen for you__  
Oh darling, it's finally true  
__And someday,  
I'll break your fall too__  
'Cause I'm falling  
I'm falling for you_

"It's a little early for a song like that, don't you think?" I said softly, even though I knew it wasn't true. It felt like an eternity of growth in one night, but it was still going too fast. There was just something about him that I broke down every barrier, every fear.

"It's never too early, as one never knows how much time they have," he said. He spoke with conviction. Of course. He lost the only woman he loved at a young age. I lost my father and he was barely 40 years old. We were all living on borrowed time. What wouldn't I give to have an eternity with someone I loved without the threat of everything being taken away in the blink of an eye?

I wanted this—with him—too much. I couldn't even believe it myself. A sensible, scared, despondent woman like me wanted more than anything to ease his pain, hopefully erasing my own in the process. It wasn't fair, what happened to either of us and we both deserved better. I resolved in that moment to _be _better.

I knew the world wasn't black or white, that there were shades of gray. It didn't feel like it right now, as we danced slowly. It felt white, burning, blinding white.

I wanted to say something, anything, but I didn't want to scare him. I didn't want to scare myself. I hoped he would be able to read my mind, like he had so many times already this evening. He was attuned to me somehow.

My head was on his shoulder and I could feel his cool breath in my hair. "The last thing on this earth I want to do is to scare you away, and I'm giving my best effort to control myself. But when you look at today and know it will be infinitely better than yesterday, don't you want tomorrow to start as soon as humanly possible?" Edward asked, without a trace of irony or hesitation. Just a fact.

I lifted my head, shifting to look at his face, which was becoming more illuminated by the hint of a sunrise waiting to break through the horizon. "How do you do that Edward? How is it that you know exactly what I want to say, what I need to hear, before I know how to put it into words?"

He smiled and tapped his temple with his finger. I smiled in return and kissed him again, willing it to go too far this time. His lips moved effortlessly with mine, a déjà vu of sorts. This was all new, yet so very familiar. The growl in his throat became more insistent before he broke my embrace and stepped back from me.

"Bella, I really must get you home. The sun will be up in less than 45 minutes, and the cloud cover will burn off before too much longer."

"What? It's already a quarter to 6?" I knew exactly when sunrises were, because I felt safest during this time of the day. Breaking dawn.

"Yes, I'm afraid it is." I was afraid, too; afraid that whatever spell was cast would soon be broken.

I stooped to help gather the basket's contents, resigned that our time together had to come to an end. Out of sheer habit, I extinguished the candle in my unusual way, by bending my arm at the elbow and quickly throwing my palm forward. As soon as I realized I'd done it in front of someone, I looked at Edward, whose eyes widened for the briefest of moments.

"Hmm." Edward raised his eyebrow and grinned. "I can break off one of my fingers and reattach it. Would you like to see?" I laughed at his silliness until I snorted and fell back on the blanket, which made him laugh as well. I was so grateful to hear his laughter, especially after my dream. The sound canceled out any other laughter my heart may have held until that point.

He offered me his hand, which I readily took and he pulled me into another embrace. "You _are _magic, Bella," he whispered into my ear.

He was able to carry everything back to the Aston Martin so all I had to carry was my shoes and blanket. I really didn't want the night to end. Edward held my door open for me as I slipped into the front seat. He was around to the drivers' side before I heard my door latch close. He was in a hurry as we sped off. He spoke even more quickly.

"I am very sorry that the evening has to end so abruptly Bella. I cannot go out into the sunlight, as I mentioned. I am so grateful that you spent this evening with me. There are things that I want to talk with you about, but there will not be enough time right now to properly convey things. I told you before that I do not want to scare you."

"You want to see me again?" I blurted out, shocked, but thrilled, that this was not the end of the fairytale.

"Of course, Bella," he said incredulously. He glanced at me sideways with a frown plain in the crease between his brows. "Please hear me when I tell you that the slate is clean and we both move forward from here." He brought my hand to his lips as he arrived at my block.

He put the car in park and opened my door for me once again. It was nearing 6:15 and he only had a few more moments before the sun would begin to shine through the buildings, flooding the city with light. He closed my door, opened the trunk and pulled out a familiar guitar case. My performance guitar.

"How did you…" I stuttered, shocked. "Where did you…" I stood there, my mouth agape as he walked it up the steps before returning to me, still standing by his car in stunned silence.

"I can be very persuasive when I need to be," he replied.

He approached me swiftly and pulled me into a kiss that I quickly felt all the way to my toes, and everywhere in between. I felt like I was on fire, burning from the inside out. _This_ was the kiss I'd needed all night. None of the gentleness was present; it was fierce, passionate and ended much too soon. Noticing that I was slightly disoriented, he led me up the stairs, and gave me one last chaste kiss on the cheek, breathing me in before saying in a low voice, "Happy birthday Bella."

I wanted to invite him in, but he was back in the driver's seat before I could find my own bearings. He motioned for me to continue inside before he pulled away from the curb. I stood in the entryway for a few moments, bewildered, staring at the spot that the car had just occupied. My clutch vibrated, my phone receiving a text message.

_May I pick you up tonight after your shift at the bookstore?_

I wanted to reply that he should turn around and hide out in my apartment with me. I wanted to forget about responsibility for awhile and just remain in this bliss-filled moment forever.

Instead I had to be satisfied that I would see him again that evening. I knew was going to have to take a nap at some point but as of this moment, my adrenaline levels would keep me awake for weeks.

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	12. Chapter 12: Off I Go

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: ****llynn20**, the ff author, only exists because of **NotEvenTheTrees**, the beta.

* * *

I walked up the steps to my apartment as quietly as possible and unlocked the door. I really didn't want to wake Eric and talk about my night just yet. I wanted to fully digest events before I regurgitated them for anyone else. I resolved to go to work, where I could think in relative solitude.

I placed my guitar case just inside the kitchen entrance, where Eric would see it. I wondered what he would make of that, the return of my performance guitar. I should probably put more thought into the logistics of that feat too—just how had Edward found it? And how did he even know it was mine? I didn't actually meet him until _after_ I'd been mugged.

Before I could think anymore on the subject, I noticed the lavender and freesia in a vase on the table and smiled in recollection, letting my mind drift back to the wonderfulness that was the night before. Nine whole hours of wonderfulness.

I walked to my bedroom to slip off my wrinkled blue dress and step into my crisp white uniform. As I brushed through my hair, a bristle caught on the chain of the lapis lazuli necklace that Edward borrowed—and I would attempt to remember to return to him tonight. To me, it was even more physical proof that the night's events actually happened. I couldn't help but smile as I removed it. Somehow I felt heavier instead of lighter once I took it off and placed it in the light blue Tiffany's box on the head of my bed. I hoped it wasn't part of the enchanted spell I felt was cast over me.

Still ruminating, I tiptoed into the bathroom to tie back my hair and wash the makeup off my face. I sent Garrett a quick text letting him know that I would make it in to work after all. I scribbled a short note to Eric letting him know that I made it home okay and that I decided to go to work.

As I made my way out the door to walk to Katrina's, I received a reply from Garrett.

_Already got the produce from Laurent. Meet you at Katrina's for prep?_

I had really hoped to spend the morning alone. I couldn't properly gather my thoughts if Garrett was at the restaurant too. I was resigned to the notion that perhaps he would allow me an apprentice opportunity instead. Perhaps he would spill the secret to his truffle oil recipe.

I got to the restaurant before Garrett and began pulling out the previous day's produce for Nahuel. I noticed my leftover mushroom ravioli in the large walk-in cooler and smiled again. Just then my cell vibrated in my pocket. It was Edward.

_Asleep?_

It was just one hour previously that I saw him last. I couldn't believe how much I missed him. Already.

_No, I decided to go to work. Couldn't sleep. Too much on my mind. :)_

As I was about to pocket my cell phone, I noticed that the battery was just about to die. I pulled a solar charger out of my messenger bag and placed them both on the windowsill. I silenced my phone, hoping that I could restrain myself from checking the phone too frequently.

Garrett arrived with the more expensive produce, buying much more than I would have dared. He asked a few unspecific questions about Edward – Kate must've reminded him that Edmund was, in fact, _not_ his name – but then inquired if we had ended the night early. Eventually he asked if I knew when I'd be going to Seattle.

I'd never been uncomfortable around Garrett before, but I had to admit I was a little now. His generically friendly questions were far too inquisitive for my liking. I answered them as evasively as I could. I was saved when the restaurant phone rang.

I wiped my hands on my towel and answered the phone, "Good morning, Katrina's restaurant."

"Bella? What are you doing there?" It was Kate, and she sounded a bit… disconcerted? Perhaps a little upset that I was answering the phone instead of her husband?

"Oh, I came in to work anyway, Kate. Did you need to speak to Garrett? He's right here."

"Yes, please. Oh, Bella, how did it go last night? Will you see Edward again?" Again with the probing questions, but this time I submitted.

"I will be seeing him again soon." I smiled into the phone, remembering what Edward had said about Kate and Garrett. I handed the phone to Garrett, who took the call in his office, located just off the kitchen. I could hear them arguing before he came out of the office with his apron in his hand and a pronounced slump to his shoulders.

"I need to go pick Kate up for work. We'll continue your truffle oil lesson soon Bella. Please call if there are any developments with your friend." He shrugged, resigned. I couldn't be sure if he meant Edward or Angela, so I assumed Angela.

He left just as Laurent arrived with the rest of the produce order. I was not going to get a moment alone this morning.

"Good morning, lady. I missed you at the stand this morning. I was worried that I wouldn't get a chance to say goodbye in person."

"Goodbye, Laurent? Are you closing your stand?"

"Yes. I am much too scared to stay in New York anymore. They found my associate, Demitri, last night."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" I asked hopefully, for his sake and for mine.

"He is catatonic Bella. They can't get him to speak. He's been missing for weeks now. They still can't find Felix."

I didn't know what to say; obviously there was no comforting him. I tentatively patted him on the shoulder. "I'm so sorry Laurent." I didn't want to leave the door open for further communication since I never really felt comfortable with him to begin with. This news was certainly shocking, though. I would have to ask Edward about it as soon as I could. As far as I could tell with my limited detective skills, he was the last person to see these two men.

"I am selling my stand to my friend Victoria. Please say you'll visit her, as I've told her all about you." I nodded my head and offered him a forced smile.

He left the kitchen and my eye caught the solar charger and my cell phone, but not before glancing at the clock. It was already nine and I had forgotten to call my mother. I picked up my phone, flipping it open to see my first text from Renee:

_Bella, I'm up. Did you have a good birthday?_

I hadn't even told Renee about my date with Edward yet. I still had eight unread text messages: two from Eric, one from Angela, another from Renee and four from Edward.

Eric: _How dare you step into our apartment and not tell me about your date! Call me!_

Angela: _I'm up for the appointment. I need details woman!_

Edward: _What would you like to do this evening?_

Renee: _Eggs, milk, Ritz crackers, cheese, Count Chocula_

Edward: _Could we go somewhere quiet to talk tonight? There are things I need to say…_

Eric: _Isabella. Marie. Swan. You are officially on my shit list. Call me. Now!_

Edward: _Please don't be alarmed. Text me when you can._

And then just a few minutes after that:

Edward: _I am tempted to drive to Katrina's. Please call or text._

I sent Edward a quick text, letting him know that Garrett was here and I was away from my phone; I sent another to Eric telling him that he'd get more information later today and to pass that on to Angela; finally, I sent one to Renee telling her that she texted me her grocery list instead of Phil, and that my birthday was wonderful.

My work routine was off, my rhythm was broken. I was behind and would have to hurry if I wanted to leave before noon. I pulled out the evening's menu and started to roughly chop the porcini mushrooms for that evening's sauces and raviolis.

Finally getting a bit of peace and quiet, I began recalling the previous day. How it had started as any other uneventful birthday and turned into something wonderful and exciting and was almost guaranteed to last at least one more day.

In my haste, I did something that I hadn't done since culinary school. I cut myself while preparing the produce. I became angry. Angry that I had done something so careless, angry that I let my wandering mind lead to my carelessness, and angry that I would have to put on gloves to finish chopping.

I went to the sink to wash my hands with soap and water then to Garrett's office to retrieve the first aid kit. After properly covering it with a bandage and a glove, I carried the cutting board to the garbage and threw away the porcini mushrooms sprinkled with my blood. I placed the cutting board in the empty industrial dishwasher and turned it on, water extra hot.

It would take less than three minutes for the cutting board to be properly sanitized, so I decided to wait for it. Just like any other occupation, certain order must be maintained. Sure, I could've started over with another cutting board, but that wasn't how I worked. That would've been like borrowing someone else's knives. Unconscionable.

I decided to catch up with some calls. Having received no response from him, I sent Edward a quick text to see if he was awake and to let him know if he was that I would be calling soon. I talked with Renee for a few minutes before she dropped my call for one from Phil. I didn't even get a chance to talk about Edward, but I did say that I went on a date.

I called Eric, and went into as much detail about the previous night as I felt comfortable with. Eric felt it was important that Edward kissed me and that he promised to see me again. Eric reminded me that Angela had a check up this morning and that she would call once it was over. He received a call from Tyler, so he dropped my call in favor of his.

Edward: _I never sleep. Call or text anytime._

My calls had been dropped by both Renee and Eric, so I decided to call Edward, hoping he wouldn't drop my call for anyone else's.

"Good morning." I said quietly, hoping to hide the excitement from my tone.

"Good morning. Is Garrett there?"

"No, he got a call from Kate and had to leave, why?"

"Just wondering. He didn't give you a hard time, did he?"

"No, not at all Edmund." We laughed together.

"So, do you know of any good restaurants in Italy?"

I had told him that I'd been to Europe, but didn't recall saying that I spent some time in Italy. "There is a creepy little village called Volterra just north of Rome. There is a restaurant in the San Lino Hotel. The carbonara was good, but the ambiance of the town didn't sit well with me for some reason."

Edward was quiet for a few moments before replying. "Is that so? Well, I will be going to Italy very soon. Volterra, in fact. The date hasn't been set yet."

I had a hard time hiding the disappointment from my voice. "Oh, well, I'm glad I'll get to see you one last time before you move." My chin began to tremble as hot, bitter tears spilled unexpectedly from my eyes. Of course something like this would have to happen. I had apparently filled my lifetime quota of happiness last night. One more night was probably asking more than I could dare to receive.

"Bella, are you all right?" he asked softly. Could he hear me crying?

It took me a moment to find some composure. "I'll be fine Edward. I'm just surprised is all." Especially after all he said about wanting tomorrow to start as soon as humanly possible…

"Do you remember what I said last night, about wanting to leave a family business?" I foolishly nodded my head as he proceeded. "Italy is where they are located. I don't know how long I will be there or when I can return, but I wanted to be forthright about it."

I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. "Oh, yes, of course." That was all I could manage to say. I was relieved, obviously. "Thank you."

"Are we still on for this evening?"

"Yes. Would it be possible for you to pick me up after my shift at the bookstore?"

"Certainly. Just give me a call when Shelly lets you go."

It was at least six weeks ago that we first saw each other at the bookstore and he still remembered her name? Does that mean he went back to the bookstore to try to find me? Ultimately, it didn't matter now. It was somehow satisfying to know that he might've been thinking of me as often as I thought of him.

"I will do that." I smiled as I hung up.

I sat in my chair for a moment, thinking how alarming it was that I could become so upset and alternately so overjoyed in such a short span of time.

The dishwasher had sanitized my cutting board twenty minutes ago, and it was almost 10:30 already. My morning was completely gone and I'd have to text Garrett to let him know that I wasn't going to be done by noon.

As I started my text, my cell vibrated and startled me. Angela was calling about her appointment.

"Hey Ang. Your appointment is done already? It's only 7:30 there."

But it wasn't Angela who was calling, it was Ben. "Bella, we were sitting in the waiting room and her water broke."

My mind went into overdrive. "Is she okay? Is the baby okay?"

"She's barely felt any strong contractions so we're not sure yet. We're at the hospital waiting to get her a suite. Monday morning is popular for scheduled cesareans apparently." Ben was frustrated and scared and it was plain in his voice.

"I need to go home and pack a few things and I'll get on the next flight to Seattle. Please send me updates as you get them." I didn't know many things about childbirth but I did know that twenty-four hours was the window of time to give birth after the water breaks. I hoped I would make it in time.

I hung up the phone and finished my text to Garrett, letting him know that not only did I not have much finished, but that I had to leave town immediately. I set the security alarm for the restaurant, locked up behind me and began jogging to my apartment. There were so many things I needed to get done and I was sure I would forget something.

I wouldn't admit it to anyone besides myself, but I was disappointed that I wouldn't get to see Edward again today. I wanted so badly to see him again before he went to Italy. But this wasn't about me. It was about being there for Angela and Ben. Edward's business in Italy wasn't about me either. I hoped it wouldn't take long for him to return, if he did leave before I flew back to New York. Perhaps a little perspective was needed, for me at least.

I unlocked the door to the apartment, glad that Eric was still there and knew what was going on. He packed my toiletries as I packed my clothes, reminding me to change out of my uniform and to layer on something comfortable. He went on telling me that a book he had ordered for my birthday had arrived in the mail this morning. He asked where I found my guitar. When I told him that Edward found it somehow, he didn't seem appeased. But he let it go.

"Bella, I just have to say that you still look wonderful for having only a few hours of sleep. Didn't I tell you that a makeover would do you some good?" He smiled and hugged me tight.

"I love it when you're right Eric. But not half as much as you do." I smiled back at him. I asked him to come with me to the airport so we could chat about what was happening with him and Tyler, but he had a noon meeting so we could share a cab part of the way.

I had my carry on, my messenger bag and decided to take my guitar too, just in case I got a chance to play the lullaby I'd been practicing for the baby. I grabbed the new book from the counter and rushed out the door. Eric had already called the cab company and they were waiting.

"Whew!" I exhaled as we settled into the cab.

Eric transformed to assistant mode and started rattling off things that still needed to be done. "I put your passport in your messenger bag just in case your flight arrives or departs from Vancouver. Shelly needs a call about your schedule. I can call her before my noon meeting if you'd like."

"That'd be great, Eric. Thank…"

"I will call Renee and let her know that you're on your way to Seattle." He knew this was a big favor to me. If I called her, she'd start ruminating about how sad it made her that I'd never have her grandchildren or reminiscing about when she and Charlie brought me home from the hospital. "I'll have a new mommy survival kit sent to the hospital for Angela. I'll have a case of cigars sent to Ben at their home address." He was a wonder to behold when he was on a roll. I just sat back to watch, daring to interrupt only once.

"You know I love you, but why are you so bossy?"

"Because shut up, that's why," came his tart reply. I burst into fits of laughter. "I'm assuming you already informed Garrett that you were leaving." I nodded and checked my cell, confirming that Garrett got my text. I saw that Edward had sent a text as well.

_Is it tonight yet?_

I smiled, glad that he was anxious to see me but sad that I'd have to break our date for tonight.

_I'm so sorry, on my way to the airport, heading to Seattle. Will call as soon as I can._

I was off in Edward-land, a popular destination of late, when Eric nudged my knee. "Earth to Bella."

"Sorry, what?"

"Will you call when you land in Seattle?" I nodded. "Take care of our babies Bella." I hadn't noticed that we were stopped in front of his office. I gave him a quick kiss. He paid the driver and off he went. Finally, a few minutes of solitude before I got to the airport. I wanted to settle back in the seat and think about nothing. Knowing that wouldn't happen and that I'd only end up back in Edward-land, I decided just to call him. He picked up on the first ring.

"I was serious when I asked you not to go to Seattle," he said in a low voice.

"My best friend Angela is having a baby," I explained, flummoxed at how this conversation was beginning.

"Oh." A few moments of silence passed. He needed to qualify his statement and I would not be the first to speak. "I am sorry Bella. I feel very... protective... of you."

"I will be in a hospital most of the time Edward, I will be perfectly safe." His concern was my physical safety; my concern was my emotional safety. "I don't like the idea of going to Seattle either," I said quietly.

"Please call me when you land." He asked softly.

"I will. Please call if you go to Italy." The thought of being a half a globe away from Edward hurt my heart unexpectedly.

"I will."

I hung up the phone then. This was where I needed to be. There should be no guilt in that, but there still was.

After I arrived at the airport, I got my ticket and paid extra to have two carry-ons. I made it through security quickly enough and sat down for only five minutes before my name was called to board. It was as if things were aligning perfectly for my return home, as if the universe knew that where I needed to be was with Angela.

The enormity of the day crashed down on me and I was grateful for the possibility of a few hours of sleep before landing in Seattle.

After three years away, I was going home.

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**A/N: **I play nicely, so come visit me on twitter and/or on the twilighted forum that **staceyj5199 **started for this story, won't you? Details are on my profile here at ff dot net.

Examen, veuillez?


	13. Chapter 13: Nowhere Warm

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** My girl, **NotEvenTheTrees**, got to spend some time with our boy Mat Kearney last night. She called and let me listen in while he sang "All I Have" and "Closer to Love". While this isn't appropriate a/n information, it is important for me to convey just how close this fic writer's relationship is to her beta. ILY **NETT**.

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I had turned off my cell phone as the plane's attendants instructed and as soon as I did, I cursed myself for forgetting my solar charger at the restaurant. The battery was so low; I hoped it would turn on again once I landed.

It rarely occurred using standby tickets, but I got an opportunity to sit in First Class for the first time ever. After we reached cruising altitude, I reclined my oversized seat, slipped the complementary satin eye covers down and asked not to be disturbed.

I took a very eventful nap on the way to Seattle. It was surprising that I got any rest at all due to the fact that I was over-exhausted. A five and a half hour flight, while long enough in theory, would do very little in the way of providing me with any beneficial sleep.

Edward appeared in my dreams and we were once again wrapped around each other. It was more intense than the dream I'd had just the day before, because I knew now what it was like to kiss him and to have him hold me tenderly. I had heard stories about people achieving orgasm in their sleep without any physical stimulation, but it had never once happened to me. Not until that blissful nap. On an airplane, no less. I woke up embarrassed and grateful that no one was sitting next to me.

I dozed off again, hoping that I could continue with the earlier dream. Instead, my overwrought mind offered me a much more disturbing dream this time. It was about Jacob. I'd had this dream of him before. One where I go back to town and no one remembers me or acknowledges me. I try to get Jacob to remember who I am, but he sees through me, like I am an apparition unworthy of recollection. I woke up a final time, dreadful tears stinging my eyes. Not wanting to take the chance of revisiting _that_ dream, I remained awake.

We landed in a rainy and dreary Seattle and I instantly remembered what I'd forgotten: a raincoat. My light denim jacket wasn't going to do much in this weather but make me all that much colder. I turned my cell phone on, sending a mass text to Ben, Eric and Edward letting them all know that I had landed.

I got an instant auto-response from Edward's cell:

_I'm in the air._

Then my cell battery died. Shit.

I missed Edward. He was on his way somewhere, possibly Italy, and I wouldn't see him for awhile. Maybe weeks. I didn't want to think about that but it was too prevalent in my mind. And my heart began to hurt again. There was no way to call him or contact him as I didn't have his cell phone number memorized, it had only been committed to the dead electronic thing taking up space in my jacket pocket. It would have to wait until I could find another charger.

Having no idea what was going on with Angela, I headed straight to the hospital. My brain spent the twenty minute drive alternating thoughts between Edward and Angela.

I couldn't shake the feeling that I was saying goodbye to both of them. Goodbye to Edward, because he was leaving for Italy and was sure to forget about me. And goodbye to a version of Angela, because she was taking on a bigger role than that of my friend. She was now "friend with child." While I certainly couldn't begrudge her that, I felt left behind. And, Eric was moving on as well…

I arrived at Mercy West hospital with my bags, my guitar case and wearing a soaked denim jacket. I met Angela's mother in the lobby and she took me up to the room. Ben was lying next to Angela, stroking her hair as she lay on her side. I was startled at all the equipment that seemed to be attached to my friend. I had never seen her so tired, yet so powerful at the same time. The small family unit was a sight to behold and it cemented the notion that this is exactly where I needed to be.

I had every intention of being as quiet as possible but, me being me, didn't succeed. I tipped the chair that I attempted to slide towards the bed and it made a clatter as the metal frame collided with the hard, tiled floor, waking everyone up. Angela smiled warmly anyway. "That sound could only indicate one thing, a Bella Swan entrance."

I laughed with her as I sat down, running my fingers through her hair. "What can I do Angela? How can I help?"

"Stop touching me," she replied tersely.

"What? Why?" I asked, stunned. "Ben is touching you. Heck, he's spooning you!"

"Don't take it personally, Bella, but the baby only likes it when Ben touches me," she replied, frank.

"Will you ask the baby if it's okay if I sit by you for awhile?"

She frowned imperceptibly. "Of course, don't be ridiculous."

I had to laugh because it _was_ ridiculous. Her life was already ruled by this little person. So maternal, so wonderful, so beautiful.

I settled into my chair. Angela and Ben took turns asking me about the birthday date with Edward but I didn't want to talk about it. It wasn't that I didn't want to share everything about the night, but it felt like if I talked about it, then it would seem like I was elaborating or fabricating things. About how perfectly the whole night had gone. Instead I gave them a reality check, hoping they'd take the hint and refocus. "He's left for Italy and isn't sure when he'll return." I said flatly.

For whatever reason, this made Angela cry. Her hormones must be driving her wild, I surmised, but didn't dare say that out loud. "B-B-Bella… I'm s-s-so sorry." One of her many monitors began going off. I instinctually panicked and backed away, scared that I had done something wrong or said something to upset her. Ben whispered comforting words in her ear and she began a set of breathing exercises that settled her after awhile. After a few more moments, she closed her eyes.

I moved to wipe her tears away and Ben shook his head at me. I had forgotten that I was forbidden to touch her. "It was just a contraction Bella. They're getting closer together, like the doctor said they would. Ma, can you talk to Bella in the hall? I think Ang needs a little quiet." He smiled to me, apologetically.

Angela's mother waved me out the door and filled me in on the day's events. When the doctor had been checking her earlier, he confirmed Angela was indeed in labor. But, while she was coming along, it was too slowly. The baby was heading towards distress but it was too early to tell if they would have to take the baby before the twenty-four hour window closed. She squeezed my hand and went back into Angela's suite. I stayed in the hallway, frozen.

Left to my own imagination, I sat in the hallway and I cried. I cried out of worry for my friend and her baby. Angela's life was a perfect picture and bad things weren't supposed to happen to her. I'd gladly take on her every burden so she could have her happily ever after. I would be content to simply endure my life if it meant she never had to experience pain or loss.

I knew that I would live vicariously through their family unit. I had been told at an early age that I would never be able to have children of my own. _I was the last Swan._ I wasn't sad about it, not anymore. I could still adopt one day if I wanted. I never talked about it to anyone; there was never a strong enough relationship in which the topic needed to be broached.

I felt completely useless and jetlagged, unsure of the hour or even how long I'd sat in the hallway, watching people float by. I took off at two Eastern, had a nearly six hour flight, and gained three hours. I didn't know what time it was since my cell phone was also my clock. I decided to try turning on my phone to see if anything would happen. It flickered to life for just a moment.

_BUZZ BUZZ_

And promptly died again.

I didn't have time to be bothered about it as Angela's mother rushed into the hall pulling on the arm of the nearest nurse. "She's bleeding. My baby is bleeding."

I jumped up from my seat and ran into Angela's room. She was lying on her side, still and peaceful. Ben was no longer lying behind her. Instead his left hand was on her shoulder and his right hand was fingering her hair. He had tears in his eyes. It was a confusing scene but it all became frighteningly clear as I walked around the bed and stopped beside Ben. The back of Angela's gown was stained bright red.

In a whirl of activity, a team of nurses came in, ripping open curtains and turning on all the lights. Angela woke up startled, crying. The decision was made to take the baby; they could no longer wait for Angela to push. I stood against the wall, wanting more than anything to be a source of strength for them all and not the weak link that I knew I was.

They whisked Angela away on her bed to prep her for surgery. Ben, Angela's mom and I were left alone in the room before a nurse came in with scrubs for Ben to wear. We stood on either side of Ben, holding his hand and waiting with him. I tried my best to hide the tremors of fear from my touch, but failed miserably.

A nurse came in, double checked that Ben had everything on correctly and took him to where Angela was now prepped for surgery. Another nurse came in and asked us to start bagging all of Angela and Ben's things to move to the maternity ward.

I told Angela's mom that I could bag things while she made phone calls to family members. I had heard that several were flying in for the baby's birth. I made a silent plea that everyone traveling would be arriving to good news and nothing bad.

And so we moved the few misplaced items that Ben had strewn around the suite. Eric must have emailed Angela or Ben a list of new mommy essentials as her bag was perfectly packed otherwise. I grabbed their bag, my bag, my guitar and headed for the hallway.

We moved slowly from the birthing suite to the maternity/nursery part of the hospital. Immediately outside their new room was the nursery, where the babies were swaddled tightly in their receiving blankets, wearing their pink and blue caps.

I knew then what I needed to do next. I needed to unpack Angela's bag. The simple act of settling Angela into her room helped me to visualize that she would be here with her baby for the next few days. That everything was going to be all right with the two of them. It needed to be done, and I needed to be the one doing it.

I began to pace the floor. Angela's mother did as well. We didn't know when we would be told their conditions. It felt like hours but it was actually only about a half before the nurse came in and said that the baby had been born and was being moved to the NICU. The baby needed to be in an oxygen tent for a few hours. Angela was just leaving the operating room and on her way to recovery. The nurse said that everyone should be just fine, but they were both going to be observed closely for the next day.

Angela's mother rushed out the door with her cell phone to make her phone calls. My knees buckled from the weight of my heart and I ended up kneeling right there on the cold floor. I bowed my head and offered an awkward, unplanned prayer. Exhausted tears fell from my eyes.

Ben ran in the door, out of breath and his eyes alight. I looked up at him and he joked, "I swear, we leave you alone for two minutes, with virtually no obstacles around you and you still find a way to fall to the floor!" He offered me his hand, which I took eagerly and he pulled me in to a tight hug. "Oh Bella, they're both so perfect."

"Congratulations, Daddy." I whispered in his ear, making my own heart ache unexpectedly.

"Where's Grandma?" He asked.

"She just went to make some calls, I think. So…?" I lead. I still didn't know if Angela had a boy or a girl.

"It's a beautiful little girl. Six pounds, four ounces and nineteen inches long. She's amazing, just like her mommy. She's got Angela's temperament too, which means it's boiling under the surface. She's just. Just…" Words failed him. They failed me too.

"Should you be here, with me? Shouldn't you be with Angela or…" Now I didn't know the baby's name. Angela was superstitious and although she asked me for advice on baby names, she never revealed the names they had chosen.

"Angela wanted me to stay with the baby since she is in recovery and will be for awhile. She had an odd reaction to the spinal and they want to get the meds through her system before she comes back."

"Odd reaction?" I panicked for what seemed like the tenth time in the last twenty four hours.

Ben noticed my posture and reached for my hand. "Nothing like that Bella. She was laughing hysterically during the entire cesarean! I thought she was flipping out but the nurses assured me that it happens occasionally and it's due to the meds. She was laughing and shaking and it was quite infectious. I couldn't help but laugh right along with her."

"What about the baby?" I asked.

"The baby was quiet when she was first born. It took a minute or two to get her to cry, but cry she did."

"The nurse said something about an oxygen tent?" I inquired.

"Yes, she'll be in an oxygen tent, at least through tonight. That's why I came, to get Angela's mom." He looked sadly at me for a moment. "I'm sure sorry Bella, but you have to wait to meet her until she's out. Only parents and grandparents can go into the NICU."

I was a little sad, but I didn't have the right to be. "That's just fine Ben." I patted his hand. "I understand completely."

"What will you do?"

The enormity of the day started to weigh on me, my exhaustion breaking the surface. "I'll wait here for Angela to get back, and then I'll go to your house for the night."

"That's a great idea Bella." He asked me where Angela's bag was. He reached into its' front pocket. "Here are the house keys and, well, I have a surprise for you. It's in our garage at home. Feel free to use it while you're here. Oh, and grab one of my rain jackets to put over your coat, silly." He also handed me Angela's cell phone and asked if I would field calls that were sure to start pouring in.

"What is her name Ben?" Instinctively, he knew I was talking about his daughter and he gave a brilliant smile.

"Angela wanted to tell you."

Angela's mom came in then and gave her son-in-law a hug. He rehashed the story he had just shared with me. I noticed that they had matching hospital bracelets that allowed admittance to the nursery. She changed into her disposable surgical gown while Ben put on another set. I sat on the rocking chair after they left to go see the baby.

I looked at Angela's phone, which thankfully was the same model as mine. Since it was almost midnight his time, I decided to send Eric a text instead of call.

_This is Bella. My phone died. All will be well. Mom is in recovery and baby girl is with Dad and G-ma. 6.4 19" TTYT_

He sent an immediate response.

_Pink! Will begin shopping immediately!_

I smiled to myself, sinking lower in the stiff wooden rocking chair. Before I could help myself, I nodded off to sleep only to be awakened moments later by nurse wheeling the bed that held my best friend. I jumped up from my seat and made to hold her hand before dropping my hand back to my side. I didn't know if touching her was acceptable yet, so I waited for permission.

The nurse checked her over, adjusting her IV bag and asking her various questions about her level of discomfort. The nurse gave me a stern look, saying that visiting hours were over and that I should leave soon. At that, Angela grabbed my hand and shooed the nurse away.

"How are you?" I asked.

"I am tired," she sighed. "But that's all a part of being a mommy." A smile lit her face, and mine as well. She was well-versed in mommy-dom already. She assisted her own mother in raising her twin brothers.

"I hear you put on quite a show during surgery." I said, teasing her a little. She brought an IV'd hand up to her face to try and stifle her own laughter.

"It's true! Ben will be telling baby Maggie that story for years to come, I'm afraid."

"Maggie?" I asked, my mouth agape.

"Margaret Anna, or Maggie, yes. Ben's maternal grandmother's name was Margaret, why?" She must've noticed the astonished look on my face.

"Oh, it's nothing really. It's just… remember the great-great-whatever grandmother of mine that I was named after? Her baby was named Margaret too."

"Cool," Angela yawned.

I took that as my cue to exit. "Ang, I'm going to let you rest. Ben and your mom are with Maggie, so I'm going to head to your house for the night. I'll have your cell phone if you need anything and I'll be back tomorrow morning, but not too early, okay?"

Her eyes were already drifting closed. "M'kay."

I kissed her forehead and grabbed my bags and guitar.

I took a cab to their home. I had been there once before, to stay with them for a week over the summer so I could attend the Bumbershoot festival. I unlocked the garage door only to be met by my old red Chevy truck, which Ben had painstakingly restored. Living in New York had made me forget just how much I loved to drive. I would have to take it out while I was here.

I went through the adjoining laundry room and stuck my damp denim jacket in the dryer. It made an odd knocking noise upon start-up which I suddenly realized was my cell phone. I grabbed it out and took it to the kitchen, where I knew Angela kept her phone charger and promptly plugged it in.

I took a few moments to look around the house, noting the changes and the nesting that Angela had done since I was here last. The guest room was now painted in the faintest colors of sherbet green, yellow and orange and it held a both a guest bed and Maggie's crib.

I grabbed out my tank top and pajama bottoms and stumbled to the bathroom to take a quick shower before bed. As I took off my clothes, I caught the faintest hint of honey and deep woods. The scent reminded me instantly of Edward and I almost didn't want to step past the glass door. But I knew I must and, after making sure that my t-shirt still did smell like him, I conceded.

After the shower, I slipped into my pajamas and into the nursery to bed. Lying on the guest bed was the Barcelona T-Shirt that Ben got as a birthday present for me at Bumbershoot. Again, I thought of Edward and his warning which reminded me at the very last moment to lock the doors, admonishing myself for not remembering to do it before my shower.

I slipped into the sheets and fell asleep mere moments after my head hit the pillow. I would not know until the next day that Edward was trying to call me at that very moment.

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**Revisão, por favor?**


	14. Chapter 14: Brighter Than Sunshine

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: **Thank you to **NotEvenTheTrees** for continuing to make this process exceedingly seamless and wonderful.**  
**

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When I woke the next morning, it was still dark. It had to be early. It was exactly the kind of sleep I didn't know I needed. I would have preferred a dream of Edward, but I couldn't recall dreaming at all. At least I was able to wake to the honey and woods scent of the t-shirt I had worn. Somehow, the smell seemed more potent today. Settling for feeling his presence might be better than a dream anyway.

I went to the kitchen, rummaging around looking for coffee. With a groan, I remembered that Angela had banned all coffee from the house while her stomach was so sensitive to the smell. Thank goodness I was in Seattle where coffee houses were on every corner. I grabbed my denim jacket out of the dryer and slipped Ben's raincoat over it. I eyed the Chevy as I went through the garage door, opting instead to walk.

Once I had my coffee, I felt awake and rejuvenated. I decided to go to the nearest grocery store and buy fixings for meals for the next week or two. I wanted to prepare large meals that could be frozen and reheated without much fuss. I walked out the sliding doors of the store, wondering how I was going to get all my supplies home then regretfully wishing that I had the truck or my trusty hand cart. My some lucky miracle, I managed to maneuver home without tripping and breaking anything.

I began to chop the produce, shred the cheese and boil the pasta for a tetrazzini dish. Angela loved my tetrazzini so I made a double batch. I made several large Italian sandwiches that I knew Ben would like. Next, I made batches of chili and homemade chicken soup with egg noodles. That should last them awhile and even be okay to serve the guests that were sure to linger.

I felt productive and even a bit domesticated cooking for Angela and Ben. It made me wonder what kind of meal I could prepare for Edward someday. French onion soup was certainly off the menu. Charlie loved my steak, baked potatoes and salad greens; perhaps Edward would like it too.

I sat at the kitchen table with Angela's phone and scrolled through her text and voice messages, making a list of names to call and text messages to make. My phone was plugged in and fully charged, but I had forgotten to turn it on. I had only a few text messages, mostly from Eric and Garrett, inquiring about Angela and the baby. Only one was from Edward, from the day before:

_I have landed. I need to know where you are and that you are safe._

I smiled sadly. I had no idea what time it was in Italy or if Edward was awake and suffering from jet lag, so I decided not to call. I didn't know what international rates were going to do to our phone bills either. Instead, I sent one quick text:

_Safe in Seattle_

I smiled at his immediate response:

_Have a good day. Enjoy the sunshine._

I snorted softly, looking out the window at the seemingly impenetrable clouds. He may be smart and delectable to the eye, but Edward was no meteorologist.

I called Ben quickly and asked if there were any updates. He said that Angela slept well and had just gotten to take a shower. Baby Maggie was discharged from the NICU and in the room with them now. He had a few pictures of Maggie and Angela and sent them to her phone, so I could share them with others. They both looked so adorable. It was as if every picture I ever had of Angela before was incomplete without her Maggie.

With my list in front of me, I promptly began sending text messages from Angela's phone, announcing the birth of baby Maggie. The voice mails from our former classmates were returned via text, as I didn't really want to chat anyone up superficially. I didn't even indicate that I was the one sending text messages from Angela's phone. If they asked whether they could visit, I advised them to wait a week or two. I knew that this week would be busy with well-wishers the way it was.

I had caught up with all her voicemails, text messages and managed to clean the kitchen before I had the chance to check my own phone again. I left a voice message for Eric, letting him know what room Angela and Ben were in and that Angela probably wouldn't get to come home until Friday.

I impulsively decided to call Edward. He was awake, wherever he was; awake enough to respond to my text message. Perhaps he was as eager to talk to me as I was him. He answered on the first ring, sounding much closer than half of a world away.

"Good morning Bella," he said in the low voice that I longed to hear in person. Saying those very words, in fact. Great, I was blushing already.

"Hello Edward. How was your flight? Where are you staying in Italy?" I asked, hoping that I didn't sound desperate or clingy.

"I am still stateside." My heart leapt a bit at that bit of information and I couldn't help but smile. "I was hoping to talk to you soon. It seems that the word has gotten to my associates in Italy that I am thinking of leaving the business and they want to see me. I need to tie some loose ends before that conversation can happen."

"Oh, okay," I replied dumbly, unsure if there was any connotation in his discourse.

"I know this is sudden, Bella, but I would very much like you to go to Italy with me. I can talk to Garrett and Shelly for you, if you'd like. I will take care of all expenses."

"Uh…" I fell silent. That _was_ a bit sudden. Unexpected, yes. Intriguing, yes. Romantic, yes. Impulsive, yes. Would I get a chance like this again, no.

"Please think about it and let me know," Edward said, effectively letting me off the hook for now at least.

"Okay, thank you. When will you need to know? Angela isn't going to be going home for at least three more days." A thought occurred to me suddenly. But I was certain of it and my mind was set. "And I need to tie some loose ends of my own while I'm here."

"Loose ends? Such as?" He inquired.

"Someone once told me that you never know how much time you have. In order for _me_ to move on with _my_ life, I think I need to make peace with my hometown."

"You're going to Forks?"

"I think so, yeah… wait… I told you about Forks?" I remembered talking about Charlie, but I didn't ever explicitly mention my former hometown.

"Well, no, not specifically," he replied hesitantly. "I don't know how you're going to feel about this, Bella, but I promised to be honest."

"Please," I insisted.

"I spent some time in the Olympic Peninsula about ten years ago. While I knew of your father, I never formally met him. Chief Swan was a respected authority figure in that entire region, as you know."

Some things were falling into place for me. Angela had mentioned seeing Edward somewhere before, when we first caught sight of him outside the airport those months before. Edward has showed me a Washington State license a few days prior. Did I know him? "Did you know me then, too?"

"I knew _of_ you, yes. Everyone knew about Chief Swan's daughter and how happy he was when she would come to visit in the summertime."

I smiled at that. Charlie never let on how excited he was when I visited, but he did everything in his power to make sure I was included in his plans. When I decided to go live with him, he tried to play it cool. It wasn't a very well constructed façade, however.

I decided that was enough information. Edward obviously wasn't hiding anything. I was twelve then and he was only a few years older than me. Maybe he got into trouble and had a run in with my father. It wasn't unheard of. He obviously wasn't the same teenage hooligan anymore.

"Okay," I shrugged. "Thanks for telling me Edward."

"Certainly. When are you thinking of going?" He inquired.

"I'm not sure just yet. I want to check in on my friend Angela and her husband, Ben. She had her baby last night. Six pounds, four ounces, nineteen inches long," I smiled at the fact that I could share things so easily with him now. "Her name is Maggie, named after Ben's Grandma Mar…"

"Margaret…" Edward echoed. He seemed to be having a moment, so I remained quiet. Until I couldn't anymore.

"Are you okay?"

"I will be, yes," he paused again. "Do you ever have occasion where a name can stir memories for you?"

"Sometimes, I guess. It's mostly songs that do that to me." Either way, I understood. I was thankful that I didn't know of any other Jacobs or Charlies. I wondered if Maggie, or Margaret, was the name of a deceased loved one. Perhaps his mother, perhaps his first love.

"Oh yes, I remember. If you do decide to go to Forks, please be safe."

I knew he was inordinately concerned about me and my well-being, but I couldn't help but ask. It was just a three-hour drive that was not wrought with peril, after all. "I don't go looking to get hurt or anything, I promise. I'm not sure why it is, but you seem very preoccupied with my safety. Why is that?" I asked while wearing a teasing smile hopefully apparent in my voice.

"Because I don't know what would happen to me if something happened to you," he whispered.

At that, I was speechless. I knew he had lost his parents and the first girl he'd ever loved. Had he lost more than that in his short life?

At the same time, I understood his compulsion. It was the same reason I kept unfamiliar people at arm's length but clung to those closest to me. I didn't want to hurt anymore either. He was concerned about me. He was letting me in. Didn't I owe him the same courtesy?

"Then I will do my very best to make sure nothing happens," I assured him. I really wished I could _see_ him. I promised to call again when I could. His tone lightened considerably as we said our goodbyes.

I sat at the table for awhile longer, drinking what remained of my coffee. I looked out the window, noticing that the morning clouds were breaking and that it might actually be a sunny day. I called Ben to see if there was anything else they needed from the house. I could hear Maggie in the background and became suddenly very eager to see them together as a family.

I grabbed my messenger bag and went to the garage where my old truck lay in wait. I remembered the day that Charlie gave it to me and smiled. It solidified the idea that I would go to Forks during this trip. It fired up right away and seemed to be running more smoothly than ever.

As I made my way to the hospital, I saw an old pub that reminded me of one in Port Angeles that I remembered sneaking into with Eric, Angela and Ben when we were still in high school. We'd never drink; we'd just entertain those who were drinking. Jacob never came with us on our adventures. He thought it was childish. I found out later that he was egging random houses, which is comparatively much more mature. I may have to pay a visit to that pub before I go back to New York.

I got to the hospital and the room was already filled to capacity with guests. I hoped that Angela wasn't being overwhelmed but knew that Ben would never allow that to happen. I sat in the hallway, waiting my turn, and looking into the nursery at the new babies. I hadn't seen Maggie in person yet, but I already knew that she was much more adorable than any of the babies in their cribs. Especially the crying babies.

The longer I sat in the hallway, the more fidgety I became. I rifled through my messenger bag for something to do. I had a crossword, a journal, and my new book. I decided to send Edward a text about it, since we had picked up the same book before.

_Waiting in line to hold the baby._ _Got a new WWI book, want to borrow when I'm done?_

I suddenly began to worry if I should be texting him so much. He was a much more important person than I was. He was a doctor and a world traveler. I was a prep manager, book nerd and guitar picker.

_New WWI book? Title?_

He may be important and busy, but he had yet to pass up replying to one of my texts.

_WWI Odd Facts and Trivia... Eric got it for my birthday. _

Angela's mom came into the hallway where I was waiting and indicated it was my turn. My phone vibrated in my hand.

_Will you wait so we can read it together?_

I smiled at that. How sentimental was I that I became excited at the prospect of merely reading something together?

I walked in the door to see Angela in her bed, holding Maggie. I went right over and sat on her bed, just watching the two of them. Maggie was asleep and Angela looked like she wanted to be.

For having little experience with infants, I felt extremely comfortable taking Maggie from Angela. I sat down on the rocking chair and just held her and looked at her and smiled at her. Everyone else drifted out of the room, even Ben and Angela's mom. Angela fell asleep almost immediately.

I sat and whispered promises to Maggie, swearing that I would always be there when she needed me and that I would take care of her and never judge her. I told her stories of how much her mommy and daddy loved each other and how much they loved her already. I told her about Eric, and while her response might have looked like a smile or a giggle, it was probably gas. She stirred occasionally but remained asleep for the nearly two hours that I held her.

Angela woke up feeling guilty, admonishing me for letting her rest that long, which was absurd and I told her as much. She was recovering from a major surgery and she needed to heal in order to take care of Maggie.

She acquiesced, albeit begrudgingly. She confessed that she felt like a failure already, not being able to deliver Maggie 'naturally' and now having a difficult time feeding her. I told her to ease up on herself and made a mental note to ask Ben to watch out for signs of postpartum depression. Renee had confessed to me that she'd been afflicted after having me but never sought help.

Angela asked me about my morning and I told her about her stocked freezer and that I had contacted all of the people that were calling asking about how they were doing. I confessed to talking to Edward, which made Angela smile inquisitively.

I told her that Edward lived in the Olympic Peninsula about ten years earlier and that where she might've seen him. Angela pressed for more answers that I, unfortunately, did not have. She didn't remember seeing Edward as a child, only as an adult.

I trusted Angela, implicitly. I already knew the answer to my question, but I wanted to ask her anyway. I wanted her opinion on going to Forks. She was all for it. She agreed that I needed closure there if I was to ever move forward with other aspects of my life.

As Maggie began to awaken, Angela said that many people were traveling today from Forks to visit the next day. She said that if I wanted to go then it would be the perfect time as half the town was sure to be visiting her here in Seattle. I agreed wholeheartedly.

I checked Maggie's diaper and handed her back to Angela with a clean bottom. I figured she'd be changing diapers for the next two or three years, it was the least I could do. Angela had the lactation consultant paged so they could give breastfeeding another try.

As we waited, I mentioned One Eyed Pete's, the Port Angeles bar we used to frequent in high school. We laughed together at the memories. She said that since I had my guitar, maybe I could stop by and sing a song or two.

When the lactation consultant arrived, I excused myself and retrieved Ben as Angela asked me to. I went for a short walk and checked my phone for messages. I called Shelly and Garrett and let them know that I was unsure when I would return, recalling my invitation to Italy but not mentioning it to either of them.

I only had one text from Edward:

_Enjoying the sunshine?_

I smiled and decided to take a walk around the hospital campus. The sunshine was delicious. I wonder how long Edward had been afflicted with his inability to be in direct sunlight and how that must make him feel. Using a cell phone, I took a picture of myself sitting on a bench bathed in sunlight, and sent it to him.

I spent the rest of the day in and out of Angela's room, letting her know that she probably wouldn't see me the next day. She understood, and was glad. She had two more days in the hospital, at least, and didn't begrudge me the chance to escape since I could.

I returned to Angela and Ben's house earlier than I'd expected. I was still on East Coast time, apparently. I was tired, both physically and mentally. I didn't bother with a shower because I liked the way my hair smelled after being in the sun.

After locking the doors, I slipped into my pajamas and then into the guest bed. I relocated Angela's phone charger to my nightstand and prepared to send Edward a text when I opened my phone to find one waiting for me from earlier in the day:

_I'm sure your hair smells delicious after being in the sun._

_

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_**End A/N:** I know you're out there reading, but I don't know what you're thinking. Won't you review or PM and let me know your thoughts?

I'm also on twitter and have a twilighted forum. Links are on my profile._  
_


	15. Chapter 15: Your Ghost

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** We've been together for four months now and I've never had anyone understand me quite like **NotEvenTheTrees **does. Feel better soon, bb.

Happy birthday yesterday to **skywlkrgrl**, who only wanted this chapter one day early as a present. MWAH!

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I started my daytrip the next morning, bright and early. I packed a lunch, my guitar and a raincoat, just in case. I decided to take the Edmonds ferry across to Kingston, effectively saving me time and giving me a chance to just enjoy being on a boat. I never admitted it to Charlie, but I loved whenever we'd take his boat out fishing.

After arriving at Kingston I was on auto-pilot driving through the familiar landscape of the Olympic Peninsula - especially between Port Angeles and Forks. Nothing much had changed in the three years since I left. One Eyed Pete's was open and they still had open mic nights. I was glad that I had my guitar with me.

The sun began to filter through the trees and I was thankful that it wasn't going to rain. At least not yet. I remembered the buildings differently; they seemed smaller now. The trees appeared ominous and impossibly greener. I was used to seeing large apartment buildings and concrete, browns and grays with the occasional flash of green. It was bizzaro world here, color-wise.

I slowed down markedly once I entered the city limits of Forks. A few people recognized my truck and waved, and I waved back, hoping the news wouldn't travel to La Push that I was here. I headed east on Calawah Way towards the Forks Cemetery. I wanted to see Charlie before going to the house.

I drove the cemetery lane towards the section where Charlie was laid to rest and pulled up behind a delivery van. The sign on the side of the it indicated that it came all the way from Port Angeles. The driver was returning to the van with a very slightly wilted white flower. I thought of how thoughtful it was that someone would have flowers delivered to an unattended gravesite. I began feeling badly for not getting any flowers for Charlie, and then recalled what a waste he thought flowers were. A thoughtful waste, but a waste nonetheless.

I got out of the truck, grabbed my guitar, the sack lunch and my jacket to sit on. As I approached Charlie's grave, I looked around to make sure I was in the right place. Sure enough, Charlie's headstone became visible, but just barely. There were two permanent vases alongside the headstone, each holding about a dozen white peony flowers. This was very odd to me, as I'd never requested permanent vases when making final arrangements. The townsfolk must've had them installed.

Alongside the plot was a wooden bench. The wood itself was immaculate and had to have at least four coats of weatherproof sealant on it. Only one slat looked older than the others, and on it was a plaque etched with the words: _Sit awhile and chat_. I began to cry as I recalled Charlie saying those very words to me as I grew up. And then again the day he died.

I was always too busy to stop and share anything important about myself as I always assumed there would be more time. I was too busy running around with Jacob behind his back. Charlie tried to warn me about Jacob, but I only thought it was because Jacob was his best friends' son. Not because Jacob just wasn't good for me.

I sat on the bench and pulled my knees to my chest. I came fully prepared to clean off his headstone but it had all been done already. I felt certain that the townspeople came on a regular basis to clear it of debris and visit. Clearly, more than just I had continued to be devastated by the loss of Charlie.

I wasn't sure how long I sat there, just staring at the headstone, having a silent conversation. I apologized for not coming around more often. I told Charlie about my life now, living with Eric and being the Godmother to Angela and Ben's baby. I told him about my jobs, and how I kept the promise of playing the guitar for others. I told him the story of the night that his guitar had been taken and how Edward had returned it.

_Let him in Bells._

"I'm sure trying Dad," I replied aloud, my voice cracking from speaking for the first time that day.

I pulled out my guitar then and started playing nothing in particular. Just finger exercises that Charlie had taught me and all of his favorite songs. All the while I told him about Edward. How kind he was and chivalrous, how he seemed to be so concerned about my safety. That Edward knew who Charlie was a long time ago. That we had both lost loved ones too early. How I'd never felt for anyone before what I felt for him although I couldn't put a label on it yet.

And then I asked Charlie a question. I wanted his opinion. Every once in awhile I'd hear his voice and hoped that he would answer me this: "I mean, part of me wants to be practical about all this and the other part just wants to take a chance and fly by the seat of my pants. Charlie, should I go to Italy with Edward?"

The wind picked up then, making it difficult to discern any sort of answer. I sat there and waited, hoping for some instruction or a course of action. After nearly a half-hour of silence, I put my guitar away, lay on the ground covering Charlie and cried until I fell asleep.

It was shortly thereafter that I woke again. I got up, dusted myself off and gave Charlie's headstone a quick kiss. I told him I didn't know when I would be back to visit again but that he was always with me.

_Time to go home._

I nodded my head in agreement, and backed away from the headstone, tripping on something insignificant and falling on my ass. It was the first time I recalled the sound of Charlie's laughter, usually prominent on occasions of clumsiness such as this. I lay back on the ground, and laughed until tears streaked out of my eyes and into my hair and ears. After I recovered, I went back to Charlie's headstone for another kiss before I grabbed the guitar case and walked back to the truck.

Although I took my time driving, it only took me minutes to arrive at Charlie's house. I recalled the last time I was here, after the incident with Sam and I, and after furiously packing bags and boxes while trying to make a reservation for a one-way flight to New York. I was here for one purpose and one purpose only: to put all of this behind me so I could move on.

I got out of the truck and walked slowly to the porch, deciding at the last minute to divert myself around the side of the house instead of going straight in. I started a laundry list of memories, recalling my favorite spot in the backyard to read a book when the weather was nice or the short path into the woods that I would take if I wanted a moment alone.

The place seemed frozen in time. The house had been maintained far better than I'd ever paid for. There was a fresh coat of paint on the house, no more than two months old. The crack in the sidewalk had been repaired and there were no weeds to be found. It was almost surreal, the way it was kept so immaculate.

I went to the garage to retrieve the house key hidden in a jar of nails. Charlie's truck was parked in the stall, and brand new tires were installed and inflated properly. I had the strangest feeling that if I were to try to start the truck it would fire up and run well.

A frown framed my face. I paid a measly fifty dollars per month to maintain the property. This was far more than I paid for. It was as if someone expected Charlie to return someday. Or maybe even me. I hoped like hell that wasn't the case.

I walked up to the house, and began to wonder what I was walking into. I unlocked the door, preparing myself for the musty smell that would typically accompany opening this door. The opposite was true. It smelled of Lysol and Windex and freshness. As if someone lived here.

Did_ someone live here?_

The house was spotlessly clean and yet unkempt. There wasn't a speck of dust to be found, but everything looked _exactly_ the same as when I left the last time. The sheets covering the furniture were missing. The fireplace in the living room looked ready to use. Firewood was stacked next to the hearth, along with fragrant pine cones, which Charlie never would have used.

Charlie's last newspaper was still on the kitchen table, in the exact same spot, open to the crossword section, as always. The mechanical pencil he always used was still tucked in the crease of the paper. I was never allowed to borrow that pencil; it was his favorite.

I ran up the steps, past my bedroom towards Charlie's door. I opened it to be greeted by the scent of his aftershave. Before I could help myself I called out, "Dad?" I stood there in the doorway half-expecting to see him lumber up the stairs asking what the fuss was about.

Of course he wasn't there. I had taken his body to the funeral home. I was the last person to lay eyes on him before they closed the casket. I made sure they combed his hair and his mustache properly. I put his lucky fishing fly in his pocket. Of course he was… gone.

He just felt… here. Present. All-encompassing. I sat on his bed, breathing him in again. I was too shocked to cry. The house felt haunted, but not in a scary Poltergeist way. In a love lives on eternally way. I looked at his nightstand, where a rare picture of him and me was propped next to a fishing trophy from his youth. I took it with me.

I went to my bedroom, wondering if being inside it would make me feel like my ghost still lived here too. The ghost of my past. A teenage Bella who is not the same person as who I am now. I had to pay homage to her, despite that. I think Charlie would be proud of who I became, and it was because of the tribulations of teenage Bella that I became who I am. I opened the door slowly.

It was immaculate, just like everything else in the house. The sun was streaming in through the window, making everything in the room illuminated and crisp. All of the clothes I had strewn about in my haste to pack for New York had been picked up and put away. I opened the closet door and could smell dryer sheets. It was all so very confusing.

There was a box of unopened mail on my bed. Four years worth of unforwarded mail. With a sigh, I sat down on the bed and began rifling through it to see who could possibly be trying to contact me when I'd so effectively dropped off the face of the earth.

There were wedding announcements, birth announcements, letters from universities and random invitations to kitchen parties and jewelry parties. Surprisingly absent were any bills or bank statements.

As I went to throw the announcements and postcards into the wastebasket by my desk, I noticed that it wasn't empty. There were handfuls of unopened letters - and upon further inspection - all from Jacob. I sat and stared at them, only looking at the postmark dates. Most were postmarked around the first three months after I left Forks. The last one was from two months prior, and it looked like an invitation to his wedding.

Unsure of what to do, I decided to ask for guidance. I flipped open my phone for the first time that day. Eric sent me a text letting me know that he was on his way to San Francisco to meet his new boss and also to meet up with Tyler. Angela was entertaining guests and being a mommy. My own mother would be the very last person that I would talk to about this. She would be upset that I was even here in Forks. She made no secret of the fact that she hated Forks.

I had one text from Edward, sent early this morning:

_I hope you find the peace that you're looking for._

I sent him a quick text:

_Have a moment for a hypothetical?_

Almost immediately:

_Certainly. Call or text?_

In my heightened emotional state, I decided that texting would be best. I didn't want to cry over the phone about an old boyfriend while talking to my new… Edward.

_Text please. If you received letters that might open old wounds, would you open them?_

_Depends on how you felt five minutes before you knew they existed._

I frowned.

_Meaning?_

_I have some hypothetical questions for you now._

I waited, steeling myself with a deep breath.

_Would knowing that the letters existed change your path to closure?_

I sat for a moment, wondering about my answer. If I had never noticed Jacob's letters in the garbage – and how they ended up there in the first place – I would be perfectly content to have closure with Charlie and this house.

_Would opening his letters ultimately make you feel better or worse? _

They'd make me feel worse, that I recognized almost immediately. Even if Jacob continued to profess undying love, it wouldn't be enough. If he said nasty things about me, as he did on occasion, then I would feel even worse.

I found it very intuitive of Edward to know that I was speaking of Jacob, without him even knowing his name or the circumstances.

_Has there been any indication that the letters changed HIS path?_

That was what decided it for me. Jacob's path was clear. He was still here, still marrying Leah, still moving on with his life. It didn't matter what his letters said. Not at all. Good or bad, Jacob's path was unchanged.

I sat there and cried. Tears of relief. I felt so much better.

_Please don't cry. I hope my questions weren't too unsettling. I only want to help._

Of course I had to smile. Even if Edward wasn't here, he had asked the right questions and provided the relief that I needed. And he seemed to know exactly what I was going through.

_Thank you Edward. I wish you were here._

_You're welcome Bella. I wish I could be with you right now too._

With that, I took a look around the room from my childhood and then closed the door behind me.

Holding onto the picture of Charlie and me, I went downstairs to the kitchen and sat at the table, deciding that the best way to have closure was to finish Charlie's crossword. I picked up the coveted mechanical pencil and felt the cool smooth of the casing. The texture reminded me immediately of Edward's hands and I smiled.

It took me awhile to manage it, as Charlie had started all the gimme questions, but I was able to finish the crossword. It felt like a shared accomplishment between my father and I. And I didn't cry. It was done. I felt so much better.

In the time it took me to complete that crossword I had made some decisions. Charlie had once told me that while no one could go back and make a new beginning, anyone can start now and make a new ending. I had resolution: the letters in the garbage upstairs needed to go to the dumpster outside. Not because I feared I might open them, but because the trash was where they belonged.

I ran up the stairs, taking two steps at a time despite my clumsy tendencies. I opened the door to my room and grabbed the wastebasket, preparing to just throw the whole lot outside.

I heard my phone buzzing from downstairs as I made my way back into the hall. Then I heard a car door slam. I approached the hallway window, blinded by the late-day sun streaming directly through the window. I had to shade my eyes to see properly. With a gasp, I dropped the wastebasket, its contents spilling onto the floor. I looked again, verifying that my imagination wasn't playing a cruel trick.

Like a scene from the distant past, a faded red Volkswagen Rabbit was parked behind my truck.

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Twitter? _link on profile, **check** _

Twilighted forum? _link on profile, **check**_

Blip playlist? _link on profile, updated with chapter title song, **check**_

Review? ...


	16. Chapter 16: Don't You Dare

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** If, as a reader, you've made it all the way through to chapter 16, you already know the heaps of love I have for my beta, **NotEvenTheTrees**. I'll never tire of saying it, four months later.

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_Through swollen lids and reddened eyes, I looked out the upstairs hallway window to the wet and darkened street below to see Jacob's car pull up behind my truck. A wave of relief crashed over me. I knew that everything would be okay as long as I had Jacob. Charlie was gone now, but there would always be Jacob. _

_I ran down the steps, tripping down the last two steps and falling on my side, which made me cry impossibly harder. Jacob heard me fall and let himself in. He began laughing _his_ laugh, the booming laugh that emanated whenever I did something clumsy – which was often._

_As I rolled on the ground to face him, the hair that concealed my face slid away and I heard him gasp and recoil at the sight of my red and purple blotched cheeks and swollen eyes. "You don't have to cry _that_ hard. You just fell down again."_

_He must not have heard the news yet. He must've been out with his friends. I would have to tell him. I wanted him to know already. He needed to be here to rescue me from this nightmare, not force me to relive it by repeating it aloud._

_Jacob pulled me off the ground to stand me up but my lack of equilibrium caused me to topple right over. "Christ Bella, knock it off." I was bawling so hard, I was hyperventilating. _

_I saw another set of headlights sweep across the kitchen and entryway. Moments later a car door slammed. _

"_Calm the fuck down. Somebody's here." Jacob propped me up in Charlie's La-Z-Boy and went to see who it was. I turned my head to breathe in Charlie's scent and began to whimper._

_He looked out the window to see a police car and an officer approaching the house. He ran back to me as quietly as he could, grabbing my arms and getting in my face. "Why the fuck did you call them? You realize I'm still on probation and if they find anything, I'll go to jail. Jail, Bella. Tell them I've been here for two hours. And that I didn't do that to you," he waved at my face._

_Jacob was prone to irrationality, but this time it wasn't about him. And I had no voice to tell him so. He turned to glare at me seeking my compliance before opening the door. _

"_Good evening Officer Debussy." It always amazed me that Jacob could go from asshole to angel in record time. He stepped back from the door, inviting the officer in._

"_Hello Jacob. Is Bella here? Is she awake?" He handed Jacob a crock-pot full of something homemade. Despite it being early June, it was cold and rainy._

"_Sure sure, she's here. Just sitting on the recliner right now. She just took a tumble down the stairs. We've been watching a movie, it just got finished. Wow, look at the time." At that point, the officer wasn't listening to Jacob anymore. He was walking towards me. With his uniform on, and his build, he looked just like Charlie. I closed my strained and tired eyes against the sight of him. _

"_How are you Bella?" I shook my head. "I just wanted to check on you, see if there was anything you needed. Charlotte made you some soup. Have you called your mother?" I nodded. "Will she be here soon?" I nodded again; grateful that the officer knew that yes/no questions were all I'd be able to answer right now. He felt him kneel down beside me. "I wanted to let you know that we haven't found the cause yet, but they feel sure that Chief Swan didn't suffer."_

It won't matter the cause, he's still gone, _I thought. I was relieved though that it was quick and without pain…_

"_What happened?" Jacob asked, still holding the crock-pot. I shook my head._

_Officer Debussy stood up sharply, turned and grabbed Jacob by the elbow to pull him into the adjacent kitchen, nearly spilling the soup. I know the Officer tried to keep his voice down but I could tell every word was spoken through gritted teeth. "If you were actually here for the last two hours, Black, then you'd know what happened. Chief Swan died this morning. And since you've been working on an alibi since I walked in this door, I'll expect you to pay retribution for whatever you've done. You won't be going to jail for only one reason, and she's sitting in the other room in her dead father's chair. Grow up."_

_After a few minutes of silence, Officer Debussy walked back into the living room, composed. "If you need anything Bella, just call the station or you can call Charlotte. Someone will be patrolling the house at all times. Leave a note on the door if you don't want visitors."_

_I nodded, managing to whisper, "Thank you Peter."_

"_You're welcome Bella. Chief Sw… Charlie… well… he was my hero."_

Mine too. _I nodded again, tears falling silently now._

_He left then and I continued to sit in Charlie's chair. Jacob was still in the kitchen and I wanted nothing more than to just have him hold me. I just needed to feel something other than the void I felt now. I would give him anything now as long as it meant he would stay. _Anything_. Barely audible, I murmured rhythmically, "Jacob. Jacob. Jacob?"_

_Instead of coming to me, Jacob stopped at the entryway to the living room and mumbled something about telling Billy. I tried to tell him that Billy already knew and ask him to stay but I only began to cry harder. He left and I stumbled to the glass front door just as his Volkswagen's headlights swept through the wet trees across the street._

_A trick of light made it appear that a man was crouching in one of those trees, his clothes and hair blackened by the rain with only his white forearms and bowed face visible. I wiped my eyes, squinting, but the darkly angelic apparition had disappeared._

~*~*~

I sighed deeply as I walked down the stairs, holding the wastebasket of unopened letters. Jacob was already trying to let himself in and I was glad that I had the door locked and the only key in my pocket. I walked past the glass front door into the kitchen to retrieve my cell phone, which had just vibrated. My movement was slow, with purpose. I had already made my decision.

He knocked on the door, apparently oblivious that I knew he was there. I opened the phone to a message from Edward:

_Be safe._

Again Edward's intuition was right on. I sighed as Jacob became impatient and rang the doorbell. I unlatched the deadbolt and as the cool air rushed into the house, I unmistakably heard the words:

_Do not let him in._

I couldn't discern if it was Charlie's voice or Edward's, but whomever, I took their advice.

"Bella Swan," Jacob breathed. He had grown quite a lot in the last three years. There was impossibly more bulk, more intimidation. His hands were on each edge of the door frame, trying to trap me as he had so many times in the past.

"Jacob Black," I replied, stony. I ducked under his arm and walked past him with the wastebasket, turning to close the door, jiggling the handle and making sure it was locked. I walked with deliberation across the street to the dumpster, chucking the wastebasket and all its contents inside.

As I walked towards him, he looked me up and down. "Damn, Bella. I didn't think it was possible. You've gotten hotter as you've gotten older."

I exploded into fits of giggles. I couldn't help myself. There were tears in my eyes and I ended up hugging my sides, afraid I might break a rib. I sat on the front steps in an effort to keep myself from falling.

He shook off the outburst of laughter at his expense. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" He assumed.

I smiled and shrugged. "Nope. I don't think I will."

Jacob then used the same unmistakable move he always did to get his way: he cocked his eyebrow and tried to touch my arm. He could sure try it, but it certainly wasn't going to work. "C'mon. It's getting cold out here."

"Then you should get back into your car where I'm sure it's still nice and warm." I had no idea where my reserve of strength came from, but I was able to think clearly and keep myself two steps ahead.

"What the fuck, Bella? I don't see you for years and this is how you treat me?" But instead of raising his voice, like he used to do, he tried to keep his voice even. He shifted from side to side, stealing glances at the houses across the street. Outside, I had the upper hand.

I shrugged, not answering his question. It was rhetorical anyway.

"You're crazy," he muttered. I nodded. "Why are you here? Are you here for me? 'Cause I'm getting married."

I began laughing again. I'd imagined our reunion almost daily for the past three years, but never in my wildest dreams would I imagine that it would include this much laughter. After too many minutes, I finally caught my breath. "I'm here because this is my house, Jacob."

"Are you going to sell it?"

"I haven't decided. Why?"

"Somebody keeps trying to buy it from the bank since no one could find you."

That was news to me. Then again, the house was paid for and a trust was set up to maintain the house and pay taxes and insurance. Not even the bank knew where I was. They must've contacted Renee instead.

"Who is trying to buy it?" I wondered aloud.

"Nobody knows, but they're the reason the house is so well kept."

"Who's been doing the upkeep on the house?" I didn't hesitate to ask. Everybody knew everything about everyone else in this town. Jacob would surely know.

"Sue." She was Leah's widowed mother. Her husband Harry had been a friend of Charlie's. It was doubtful that Sue would tell me who had been paying her for the extra chores. That explained why Jacob's letters were in the garbage.

I was quiet then. Asking him questions would invite his questions in response. I knew I wasn't going to offer him anything. He was the main reason I had so many emotional walls in the first place.

We sat there, the silence obviously making him uncomfortable. "I'm getting married you know. To Leah."

"You mentioned that. Awesome." The sarcasm was getting harder to mask.

"Are you coming to the wedding?"

I glanced across the street at the dumpster that now held his invitation.

"Nope. I don't think I will."

"Why not? Sam will be there. We'll have a good time."

I shifted in my seat to look him straight in the eye. Apparently Sam hadn't mentioned to Jacob what had happened between us the day I returned to Forks three years ago. I had the ammunition I needed. I could've ruined a friendship right then. I could've told Jacob that I lost my virginity to Sam. But that wasn't the road I was on anymore.

Jacob mistook my direct eye contact for indirect intimacy. He reached for my hand which I reflexively folded under my other arm.

"So, are you seeing anybody?"

"Yes," I shared, unflinchingly. If I revealed nothing else, Jacob would know that he no longer had a hold on me. I belonged to someone else now.

_BUZZ BUZZ_

I opened my cell phone to a text from Edward:

_I want to kiss you so deeply that I will have to either support your weight… _

I gasped audibly. My other hand went to clamp my mouth shut. I didn't have to wait long for the other half of his message:

…_or lay you down to properly finish what I start. _

I reread that message multiple times, making sure that I read it right. Blood rushed to my cheeks, ears and chest, making me feel transparent. Despite the cool outdoors, I was extremely flushed and warm.

Jacob was actually tugging on my sleeve, trying to get my attention. Was he always this needy? I was trying to have a moment here!

"What Jacob?" I huffed impatiently.

"So, can I visit you sometime? Where do you live?"

"East of here."

"Everything is east of here."

"Uh, it sure is, isn't it?"

"Can I get your phone number?"

"Why do you want my phone number?"

"Things aren't going well between Leah and me."

"Is that so?" _It was a rhetorical question Jacob, please don't elaborate. I don't want to know._

"Yeah, well. She's just not that into…"

Nope, not gonna happen. "Listen Jacob, I'd sure love to chat with you about your fiancé, the very one you cheated on me with, but I just don't have the energy or wherewithal to care. You're with her. I've moved on. I don't think there is anything that we need to be even cordial about."

"Why the fuck would you say that?" Jacob was so obtuse. Did he really think that I came here to save him from his perceived misery? He waited for my response, which I never gave.

We were silent for a few minutes. Traditionally, Jacob would use this time to think up something acerbic, spout it off, and infuriate me so he could stalk off and go be a douche with his friends. I could tell the leaving part was coming and was looking forward to it. Still, I girded myself for the nasty comments that were sure to ensue.

In the meantime, I began thinking of Edward and what he had just texted me. I wanted more than anything to have that particular scenario play out. To have him kiss me like that, unrestrained, well... the anticipation alone was painful. And I had no idea where Edward even was. He had yet to say. But the ache that accompanied me on my flight a few days earlier was peculiarly absent.

I could see Jacob shaking his head from my periphery, the mudslinging was about to begin. "He would be so disappointed in you right now."

I gripped the guardrail and began to shake. It took a moment to clear my throat. This is the part where Jacob would set me off. "Excuse me?"

"Charlie. He would be disappointed in you, talking to me like that."

I shot up from my seated position. "Excuse me?" I repeated as lowly as I could manage; my jaw about to break from exerting so much pressure. I could feel the porch shaking. I had no idea what was keeping me from launching at him.

"You heard me…" He stood up as well and turned to face me. Even with him standing on the ground and me on the second step, I was barely taller than him.

"Don't. You. Dare." I enunciated. I had never before talked back to Jacob because I submitted to him too many times. I felt strength here.

_Step back Bells. Tell him to leave._

I did as I was told and took a step backwards, up the steps. My hackles were up. I could still feel the porch trembling and a rumbling in my chest. I felt like I might explode with anger. "You should leave."

Jacob didn't even try to hide his smirk. "Or what, Bella?" He looked over his shoulder again, making sure the coast was clear. "This feisty side of you does something for me. I think I'd like to see the inside of your bedroom before I go back to Leah."

_Threaten him._

_With what? _I wanted to scream at no one. "I am warning you Jacob Black." My teeth were grating together and my fists were clenched. It was an empty threat, of course it was. He weighed almost twice what I did. I backed up the remaining steps. I was trapped. I couldn't tell if the porch shuddered because of my anger or my fear.

Jacob raised his chin arrogantly and placed a foot on the steps.

_Turn away from him Bella._

I blindly obeyed, reaching for my key and hoping that I could slip it in the lock, open the door, get inside and lock it again before Jacob reached me. I knew it would take me far too long to manage all that.

But when I turned around to unlock the door, it was ajar already. I ran inside and turned to lock the door again when I noticed that Jacob wasn't standing on the steps any longer.

Instead, he was sprawled out on the ground five feet from where he just stood, clutching his chest from just having the wind knocked out of him.

* * *

**A/N:** Every week, there are more alerts and favorites added. Would you mind reviewing and letting me know where you found My Heart With You? Fic dive, recommendation, website, twitter... curiosity is killing me! Plus, I love reviews!


	17. Chapter 17: Runaway Car

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:** I hope this isn't too bold, and I know I'm not in the middle of a soccer field, but **NotEvenTheTrees**? Will you be my ficwife?

* * *

I stood there from inside the glass front door, watching Jacob struggle to breathe. I wasn't sure what I should do, if anything. He could still come after me, but something was telling me that he wouldn't. Just yet anyway.

I had no idea what just happened. Maybe Jacob tripped. Maybe the force of my anger threw him backwards. Maybe Charlie's ghost finally got to kick Jacob's ass. I would probably never know but I can't say that I didn't revel in this moment.

After several more minutes, Jacob got up. He made no movements towards the house; he didn't even brush himself off. This was a far better last memory of Jacob than the one I held previously: the one where he was screwing Leah while screaming obscenities at me. I resisted the urge to smile and wave. Barely.

I watched Jacob get into his Rabbit and peel out of the driveway. I needed to make sure that he wouldn't do anything to my truck before he left. That had happened too many times in the past.

Knowing Jacob how I did, I knew it was time for me to go. Right now. It wouldn't take long at all for him to round up some friends and come back. I called the Forks police station and left an anonymous message for Chief Debussy to have a patrol car check on the Swan residence.

I looked around one last time, trying to remember if there was anything here that I still wanted. Charlie's last crossword, his mechanical pencil and his picture of us together. That was it. I would decide what to do with everything else some other time. This time, flight was far better than fight.

I wanted to text something placating to Edward. He was so concerned about my safety the way it was. I didn't like the thought of keeping this from him or hiding anything anymore. I would not try to call from the road as driving the truck takes both hands. And I needed to go. Now. Perhaps I could stop in Port Angeles and call. It would give me time to think how best to say what needed to be said.

I drove by the police station on my way out of town. Chief Debussy noticed my truck and flagged me down. I had no intention of getting out, and he could tell I was in a hurry. He said that there were several anonymous tips that something was going on at the house and that Jacob Black had just been picked up for driving erratically on the way to La Push. Without prompt from me, he said that he would keep an eye on Jacob and his friends.

I know he wanted to say more to me, to ask me where I've been, but I think Chief Debussy understood my discomfort and allowed me to leave unimpeded. I felt better that Jacob was in police custody, but I still was not going to stop until I got to Port Angeles.

In the almost hour and a half that it took me to drive to Port Angeles, the crisp light that permeated the trees had ended and the clouds had rolled in. It was going to be dark soon. And the truck's fuel gauge was getting dangerously low. This was a cell reception dead zone. To prevent myself from freaking out needlessly, I tried to distract myself with my iPod. One of my favorite Teddy Geiger songs played during the shuffle and I couldn't help but sing along. It was just too ironic to be a coincidence:

'_Cause everybody tries to put some love on the line__  
And everybody feels a broken heart sometimes_  
_Even when I'm scared I have to try to fly  
Sometimes I fall but I've seen it done before  
__I got to break out, I got to step outside these walls_

_These walls can't be my heaven  
These walls can't keep me safe here_  
_Now I guess I got to let them down_

As they tend to do on solo road trips, my mind wandered. Of all the things to think about, I thought of Jacob.

All this time, I had thought that Jacob would be _it _for me. My one chance at true love. I realized then that it was just as good for me to see him again as it was to have some closure with Charlie and our home.

It wasn't love that we shared at one time, it was contrived emotional and physical manipulation disguised as what I _perceived_ love to be. Angela and Eric had been trying to tell me that all along and in the years since. Even Charlie had tried to tell me that while he was still alive and while Jacob and I were still together. In my youthful insolence, I knew that they were all wrong and that they must just be jealous.

I couldn't get that time back. But, it wasn't wasted time, either. I had to use what I learned from it to move forward.

Edward knew what love was. He shared it once with someone who must've been wonderful and beautiful. I wasn't jealous of her; I was sad for her—to have life stolen along with Edward's love. Silent tears fell from my eyes. I thanked her, whoever she was, for teaching Edward what love is. I had no idea anymore. Perhaps he could tell me sometime.

Reflexively, I checked my cell phone, just to see if it were possible for any text messages to come through. No text messages. I checked the fuel gauge. I felt certain that I could make it all the way to Port Angeles. I checked my rearview mirror. I laughed at my own paranoid stupidity.

I was approaching Crescent Lake and chanced a look its beautifully glassy darkness. I wondered if Edward had ever gotten a chance to see the lake at night when he lived near here ten years before. I smiled at the thought that maybe I had seen him before. Perhaps he was an often overlooked gangly young man who grew into his beauty.

_It's always__ the ones you least suspect Bells._

Charlie was right on that point.

I finally allowed myself a moment to properly think about Edward's last text messages:

_I want to kiss you so deeply that I will have to either support your weight… _

…_or lay you down to properly finish what I start. _

I flushed again. That text was over two hours ago and I never got a chance to reply. What would I say anyway? _Promise? _I was inept at flirting. There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted him _that way._ In many ways, multiple times. But how to get to that point was beyond me. Past experience dictated that liquid courage was needed to become attractive enough for physical contact.

I began to ache for him. I did not know where he was or when I would see him again. Hearing his voice on the phone would have to placate me for the time being. I wondered how skilled he was at "fornication via telecommunication" – Eric's phrase. I began to shift in my seat, impatient to get to Port Angeles. I may have to stop at One Eyed Pete's for a quick drink before calling Edward.

It hit me again. It was two full hours since Edward had sent me those text messages. I hope he didn't think of my lack of reply as a rejection. That couldn't be further from the truth. I was just busy trying to escape Jacob and the town of Forks. I would set things straight when I called him.

I saw the lights of Port Angeles and knew I would just make it. I looked at the fuel gauge that was just now below the E line. The truck began to chug and sputter. The bar was just within sight so I picked up speed, hoping to coast into town on fumes.

I pulled over about one block from One Eyed Pete's and burst out in hysterical laughter. I was relieved to make it all the way and well out of Jacob's reach. I needed to use the restroom anyway, so I got out of the truck, pulled the guitar out of the passenger seat, and walked the rest of the way to the bar.

I only saw two cars parked in front of the bar, but four motorcycles were parked beside it. I had to laugh again. I wondered if it was the same four guys who always hung out here, asking girls if they wanted a ride and stealing things from unlocked cars. Hopefully they grew out of that phase. As I opened the door to enter the bar, they stumbled out.

"And don't let me see you drive off on those crotch rockets either or I'll call the cops!" The bartender was shouting after them. I took several steps back and around the corner, hoping they wouldn't see me. Thankfully, they didn't. I would have to stick around awhile longer to make sure that was the case.

I walked inside the now-empty bar and looked towards the bartender, who was still red in the face from yelling. "Excuse me, are you closed?"

"I will be in a moment, is there something you need?" She asked.

"Could I use your restroom?"

"Sure." She looked down at my guitar. "You just missed open mic night."

"Yeah, I figured. I just didn't want to leave my guitar in the truck if you know what I mean." I nodded in the direction of the four motorcycles still visible from the window.

"Oh, I understand," she nodded as she walked toward the front door to turn the bar sign to CLOSED. "Well, if you'd like, you can still play me a tune. I'll be here for awhile washing glasses and it's probably best if you don't go back outside until they leave anyway."

I smiled at her warmly, and placed the guitar case on the ground. She pointed me in the general direction of the bathroom, not knowing that I had been here multiple times. I also knew about the emergency exit behind the stage and that only one person at a time can sneak out of the women's bathroom window.

After using the facilities and diligently washing my hands like only a prep manager would, I opened my cell phone to see if I'd gotten any texts. I had not. I really hoped Edward would forgive me for not responding more quickly. I contemplated calling him right then. But I hadn't had my shot of courage yet. My ears perked as I heard the bell over the front door ring.

I backed out of the bathroom to avoid touching the door handle, but the bartender was still the only one in the area. I approached the bar, slapped a ten dollar bill on the counter, and asked for a shot. She sized me up, took a bottle of something from the mini-fridge and poured it into a shot glass. It came out thick and light pink. I shot it back and mumbled something about it tasting like Strawberry Quik. It could've very well been. I put the shot glass back on the counter and asked for another, which I left for after my song.

I took the guitar out of its case and walked towards the stage. I started to think of what song to sing and immediately thought of what I would like to say to Edward, if I had the courage to do so. I tuned it quickly and made to strum a few chords when the bartender interrupted me with a question, "Anybody in particular you are singing this song for?"

My face flushed and I nodded. "Yeah." But I didn't know what to label Edward. Not yet. She smiled, averting her eyes. I began strumming again, not feeling the need to plug in my guitar or use a microphone; my intended audience might never hear me sing this song. It didn't take long for me to look into my mental vault to find yet another Kyler England song to match what I needed to say perfectly.

_You're too quiet now, it's two a.m.  
Lying beside you, don't want to lose  
This reckless feeling, scared out of my mind  
What does it mean, that look in your eyes  
_

_The moon through the blinds, leaves you half lit  
The curve of your back, illuminated  
The other side's dark, can't make out the shape  
I'm longing to see, the look on your face_

I closed my eyes in an effort to sharpen the image of the words I sang. My imagination never failed to create illusions of danger in the past.

But tonight I wanted to picture him and me this way, after consummating whatever it was that we shared. The alcohol had started to affect my empty stomach, and I could think of little other than what Edward might look like wearing nothing but a crisp white sheet.

_What are you thinking, come on say anything at all_  
_Before I fall in love with you, unless you want me to  
Don't let me fall in love with you, unless you want me to_

I would have given anything to actually see Edward, looking back at me and offering the answer to the question I needed answered the most: _what is this that I'm feeling?_

My eyes flashed open. I smiled demurely as the alcohol and my imagination gave me what I wanted: an apparition of Edward standing as still as a statue, not ten feet in front of me. Despite the low light in the bar, this image was clearer than any dream I'd had of him before.

This was my opportunity to confess everything. I couldn't be rejected by a hallucination, at least I hoped not. I began boldly into the next refrain:

_I have never wanted anything more than I want you  
But I'm still holding on tight to the edge, I don't know what else to do_

The vision of Edward stepped towards me, out of the darkness of the bar and into the light that illuminated me on the stage. The blood rushed from my face at the realization that this was no vision. It was really him. Here. Now. He had heard everything I'd just confessed. I should've just stopped singing but I continued to whisper the last lines:

_Don't let me fall in love with you  
Unless you want me to_

_I'm gonna fall in love with you, if you want me to_

The look on his face did not betray any emotion. It was void. There was no happiness, no sadness; nor was there elation or disappointment. It was still. I had no idea what was going on in his mind. It could've been a million things or nothing at all.

Without breaking his intense gaze, I stood up from the barstool and took the two steps from the stage to stand in front of him. He reached forward, taking the guitar from me, and kneeled to place it in the guitar case.

Edward took me in his arms, cradling my head to his chest. I could barely make out his words besides _'hours', 'can't go on'_, and '_finally safe'_. I decided to remain silent; I'd already said too much. He needed this moment, and I would let him have it with no more input from me. After awhile, I moved to look at him.

Edward looked down at me, his eyes shockingly dark red. Pain was evident on the planes of his face. I cradled his jaw in my hands and tried to smooth away the concern with the pads of my thumbs. When I asked him if he'd like to go outside and get some air, he nodded. The bartender—who I had forgotten all about—offered to stay open so we could come back for the guitar.

I took Edward's hand and led him past the stage to the back exit, into an alleyway that would be otherwise foreboding had Edward not been accompanying me. As soon as the door swung shut, he had me pinned gently against the brick wall, the crooks of his elbows beneath my underarms, supporting the back of my head with his hands.

"It's a little early for a song like that, don't you think?" Edward repeated my words from a night not so long ago. A strange hunger lit his dark eyes, which flickered from my own eyes to my lips.

I responded with his own words in kind, "It's never too early, as one never knows how much time they have."

Edward lifted me slightly and began to kiss me in a very unchaste manner. The familiarity of his earlier kisses were replaced by a new forcefully impatient exploration. He pressed against my chest with his own, never moving his arms from their supportive position encasing me. He moved his cold tongue to the inside of my upper lip and the sensation was incomparable, indescribable.

I loved this feeling. I was not scared of _this_; I was scared that it would stop. That he would pull away. I tried to use my arms to pull him even closer but he was making good on his earlier promise: he was fully supporting my weight because of the depth of his kiss.

The reverberation of the wall behind me reminded me of the anger of my earlier exchange with what's-his-face. But this was not anger, it was uninhibited ardor. The growl that imparted from my throat then was the same as the sound that I heard now. It was all-consuming, all-powerful.

I began to gasp, my traitorous lungs screaming for relief. "Edward, I thought you needed to come outside for some air," I managed.

"The only air I need expels from your lungs." He looked down to watch the rise and fall of my chest as it expanded and contracted, my lungs replenishing. He waited only a few more moments before consuming me with kisses me once more.

* * *

**A/N:** The six chapter Edward drought has ended! WHEW! If you really want to get a sense for what Bella is singing to Edward in One Eyed Jack's, I urge you to visit my blip playlist, link on profile.

I want to thank **Twi-Fic Promotions** for their recent pimpage of MHWY, especially **Rebekah **for her lovely review. If you found me through them, won't you leave them some love in their MHWY review thread? Link is on my profile.

Review here too, please?


	18. Chapter 18: With You, Tonight

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: **So sorry for the hiatus. A few things happened during the break: I finished my semester (4.0!), I created a tumblr account (llynn20ff), and **NotEvenTheTrees** accepted my fic-proposal! YAY!

Anyways... anybody remember what was going on when we last left those two crazy kids in Port Angeles? Nah, me neither.

* * *

I was completely immobile in that darkened alleyway. I felt as if I was being consumed and had little care or want for it to cease. I wanted to be his prey. He was the victor. I was the spoils.

I was having an out of body experience; there could be no other explanation. I could feel nothing in my hands or anything on my fingertips. My arms were hanging loosely at my sides, useless. I was certain that my feet weren't even touching the ground. I was being held up by my underarms. My head was being cradled by two strong hands. My jaw and collarbone were being brushed by cool capable lips.

I was gasping for his air.

He wasn't kidding when he'd said that he would have to support my weight. And I had no choice but to let him.

That must be his knee between my legs.

As soon as I found the wherewithal to comprehend this fact, I bent my legs. My shoes took purchase on the brick wall behind me and I used my remaining strength to push against it, closing what little distance remained.

The denim seam of my jeans rubbed against the rigid muscle of his thigh and made for an exquisite friction that jump-started every nerve in my body. A ragged breath escaped my mouth as Edward began to growl into my throat.

Then, with tip of his nose pressed behind my earlobe, all sounds ceased save for my own. He had stopped breathing and was frozen on the spot. I tried to move my head to see what the matter was until he rumbled lowly, "Close your eyes. Now." It was not a request.

I shut them immediately. In one swift motion, my legs were wrapped around his waist and my arms were holding tight to his neck. Before my heart skipped a beat, we were no longer outside; I could smell stale beer and ashtrays.

I clung to him, admittedly frightened at the speed we must've been moving, waiting for the all-clear. He propped me upright on the floor, and placed the pads of his thumbs on my eyebrows, coaxing my eyes to open. "Please stay here with the barmaid. I will come back for you. Do you need anything out of your truck?"

I nodded, stunned. I fumbled in my jacket pockets for the keys, praying that I didn't lock them in the truck. I looked up to see Edward dangle them in front of me. He stopped to pick up the guitar from the stage and walked me to the bar where the bartender was looking unabashedly from Edward to me.

I reached for the second shot poured for me earlier until Edward put his hand over it and shook his head. "Please, no more alcohol Bella. I want you to be completely aware of what transpires between us tonight."

My mouth was agape. I watched as Edward went through the back exit then I pivoted around to face the bartender. She was pouring me a large glass of ice water, which I took eagerly and gulped even more quickly. She took my shot and downed it herself, giving me back my ten dollar bill. "Damn," she muttered.

I sat there for a few minutes, making a feeble attempt at gathering my thoughts. My pulse was still racing from our encounter in the alleyway. But an unavoidable question was assailing my pleasant thoughts: how did Edward know where I was?

He must have flown in to Seattle today and asked Eric where I was. I could think of no other explanation. By process of elimination, he must've found me here in Port Angeles. He couldn't have followed me all the way to Forks… could he?

Breaking from unsettling thoughts, I looked at my phone, which was on the verge of losing battery life. I sent a text Ben, letting him know where I was and that he might not see me until tomorrow. I turned the phone off, wondering where Edward and I were going to go after this. A hotel perhaps?

The thought made my face and chest flush with color.

"Thinking of me?" Edward asked in my ear, successfully reigniting my nether regions. I smiled and stood up from the bar, took his hand and let him lead me to the door.

"Just one moment." He smiled and walked back over to the bartender, whispering something to her which made her eyes widen perceptibly. Edward nodded to her, and she nodded back. As we exited the bar, I glanced over my shoulder to see her picking up the phone.

"Uh, my truck is out of gas," I offered lamely.

"That's fine, I have a car. I will have your truck taken care of in the morning. I just need to get you away from here." He opened the passenger door of a silver Volvo and closed the door once I was safely inside. Before I could blink, he was seated behind the steering wheel.

"What's going on?" I alleged, trying to maintain an even level of decorum.

"We were not alone in that alleyway Bella. I brought you inside so I could nullify the threat," he said as he threw the car from reverse into drive.

"What does that mean?" Before he could answer, I found out exactly what he meant as we pulled away. I looked back towards the bar and saw the four hoodlums on the ground, unmoving. Their motorcycles were in a heap beside them. "Are they…" I choked on the question.

"Unconscious, yes," Edward whispered. He offered me his hand over the car's console, palm up. Instead of giving him my hand, I placed my wrist in his grasp. The gesture made him smile. In this simple act, I wanted to let him know that I trusted him with my safety.

I reclined my head on the headrest, closing my eyes for a moment. His medicinal touch calmed the unease in my stomach, but did little to quiet my addled brain. Edward had things to explain. I knew it, and he knew it too. But before any details would be shared, I just needed to be close to him. Words can come later. A dreadful feeling washed over me as the realization that whatever he had to say might be too much for me to handle.

I recalled with perfect clarity what Angela had told me on my birthday just days earlier: _'Sometimes you have to take the leap and build your wings on the way down.'_ This was my leap of faith.

"Do you feel safe enough to be alone with me?" He asked quietly. "I understand if you don't."

"Of course, Edward," I said quickly. It was true. I felt perfectly safe with him. It was everyone else that should be worried. He was protective of me, of that he'd confessed and proven.

Would he be so kind with my heart, was _it_ safe?

How many times over the course of the last few months had Edward saved me? I knew of a handful of occasions, and tonight would certainly not be the last time. He had made mention of vigilante tendencies while we were on our date. Or was that the lie? I could not remember.

"What are you thinking?" Edward inquired as my stomach rumbled loudly. I hadn't had anything to eat since my picnic with Charlie.

"I'm hungry, I suppose," I smiled equably, needing desperately to change the subject. "You?"

"I'm sure my eyes have given me away. I am also hungry." Edward had mentioned this during our date too, that his eyes changed color depending on level of hunger and his mood. Which of his statements were lies?

"Would you like to go somewhere and eat? Bella Italia is a nice restaurant," I offered. I didn't know what else to suggest. I didn't want to be blatant and crude and suggest a hotel room and room service.

"No, we need more privacy than that." I looked over at him. A frown was framing his smooth forehead.

I gave up the assumptive game and just asked outright, "What are _you_ thinking, Edward?"

He took a deep breath in, and as he exhaled he revealed, "I have a houseboat docked here in Port Angeles. It is replete with a stocked kitchen. If you are willing, I will take you to it so you can have something to eat, we can talk…"

"Do we have to talk?" I interrupted before I could stop myself. I _knew_ he had to explain himself. Just not… yet.

The thumb that was caressing my inner wrist stopped moving for a fraction of a second. He immediately picked up on my inference. "No, we can delay this conversation for another time."

Edward took a left onto Marine Drive and proceeded past the commercial fishing boats, beyond the recreational boats and towards the quieter dock of the houseboats. I had been by here a few times before but had never seen one as splendid as the one that Edward parked his Volvo next to. This added more questions to the mental list that was already much too long.

He opened my car door and offered his hand which I accepted. We walked together, hand-in-hand, on the narrow gangplank leading up to the front entrance of the houseboat.

Edward ran his fingertips over a security panel next to the glass front doors. I could hear several locks release before the door opened. He waved a hand for me to enter first. The kitchen and dining room together took up nearly one half of the upper deck. It was very clean, almost unused. Edward must dine out a lot. I chided myself for making any further assumptions about him.

The other half was a living area, with several large sofas, an elaborate music system, a mixing board, several guitars and a black baby grand piano. My eyes glazed over, trying to take everything in. Like a kid in a candy store, I wanted to touch and sample everything.

Edward placed his hand on the small of my back. He had gone back to his car to retrieve my messenger bag and guitar. I hadn't even noticed that he'd gone and already returned.

"Bella?" He inquired softly. I nodded. "In order for things to go… well… this evening, I must leave you, but only for a short while. I promise."

My mind began begging me to ask him why. Where was he going? How long will he be gone? Why can't I go too?

"Everything you need is here, and you will be perfectly safe." He turned toward the glass front doors with a remote in his hand, turning the glass front of the boat translucent.

He handed me an electronic fob, saying, "This will open the door from both the inside and the outside. I am going to ask that you don't use it." By the set of his jaw, his meaning was clear. I should stay inside until he returns, but I had the option to leave if I so choose.

But I didn't want to leave, and I didn't want him to leave either.

"The lower deck has a study, a bathroom and a… a bed. Please make yourself at home." The cadence of his words began to quicken. It seemed that if he didn't leave right now, he wouldn't and whatever he feared might go wrong, would indeed go wrong.

Instead of letting him go I began to beg, my voice cracking. "Edward, I can make us something to eat here. You don't need to go, do you?"

"Yes, I'm afraid I do Bella. I'll grab a bite while I'm gone, I promise."

I stepped back, allowing him to take his leave. Instead of doing so, he closed the space between us. Facing me, he brushed his hands up my arms and over my shoulders, gathering my long tangled hair and twisting it gently over one shoulder, exposing my neck. I closed my eyes, reveling in the sensations that washed over me. I could feel the cool exhalation from his mouth then a sharp intake of air at the point just below my jawline.

He moaned, and then quite literally disappeared. The kitchen door latched quietly and all locks secured quickly.

I ran to the kitchen window on the side of the boat and looked out towards land. The Volvo was still parked in the same spot, and his keys were on the counter nearest the door. Whatever errand he had to run, he was literally running it.

I stood there for a moment, wondering what I should do until he returned. Should I stay in the kitchen, or look around? Should I take the Volvo and make a run for it? Was I in over my head or not in deep enough?

_Quiet_, I reminded myself. Tonight was not for questions and answers. It was about pretend and make believe and perhaps a little magic.

I looked in the refrigerator after being audibly reminded of just how hungry I was. There was a bowl of fruit, sliced meats and cheeses, vegetables, and a bag of flatbreads. Everything looked very fresh, as if it had been hand selected from a grocer's stand that very morning. I grabbed a bottle of Gatorade and a plate holding a little of everything.

I was tempted, so tempted, to take my food with me and walk around the houseboat. Knowing myself as I did, I would spill everything and leave evidence of where I'd snooped. I sat at the counter, eating just enough to be sated but not too much to be uncomfortable. I noticed a bowl of soft peppermints covered in dark chocolate in the refrigerator and helped myself to a few as I washed my dishes in an almost unused sink.

I took my bottle of Gatorade – grateful that it was the clear, non-stain forming kind – and started to walk towards the living area. I looked through the extensive music selection and pressed shuffle on the main console. An unfamiliar song began to pipe through the speakers hidden everywhere.

Being in a boat, I was surprisingly steady going down the spiral staircase descending to the lower deck. This level was sectioned into three large rooms, separated by two two-sided fireplaces. The first room I looked through was the study, filled with shelves of leather bound books. The furniture was also leather and appeared exceedingly comfortable.

In the center of the study was a grand wooden desk with a stack of journals and other notepads and sketchpads. I would not invade Edward's privacy by looking through the journals. Some had the appearance of being very old, perhaps from a long-dead relative. Before I crossed the line into possible answers, I turned around to go to the bedroom.

The bedroom was comparatively smaller than the study and was as seemingly unused as the kitchen upstairs. The bed frame was beautiful wooden wave design. Although very tempted to curl up on it and take a nap, I did not. I looked around the rest of the mostly enclosed room, my eyes finally settling on the walk-in closet. I could not resist this urge.

There had to have been twenty of most beautiful suits I had ever seen, each a varying shade of the next. I took a deep breath in and almost became lightheaded at the woodsy scent that was most prevalent here. I took a crisp light blue button-up from a hanger.

As I looked up, I saw a small shoe box labeled 'Isabella'. It was far too high to reach, and I wanted that box. Badly. It was representative of just another question I would have to have the answer to. It would have to remain a mystery for one more night.

I went back into the bedroom and tried to quiet myself, hoping that I would hear Edward walking upstairs. The only sound that I could hear was the waves gently lapping the sides of the boat and the music playing lowly in the speakers hidden in the ceiling.

I walked into the bathroom and stepped onto the heated tile floor. It was the largest bathroom I'd ever seen. There was a deep, freestanding boat bath in one corner and a full size glass enclosed shower in another. The shower had a rain nozzle above and jets at different points around its perimeter.

There, in that beautiful bathroom, I began to have a panic attack. I knew what was going to happen tonight. I wished I'd read the last few months worth of Cosmopolitan or the smut that Angela had sent via email. I wished my cell phone had enough battery life so I could call Eric and find out just what to do to please a man.

I had never had more than a few one night stands in my three short years of sexual 'experience'. There had always been alcohol, there had always been grunting and grabbing, but there had never been anything more. Except hollow regret after, always.

I needed to calm down. I looked from the shower to the bath. The only other decision I was going to make this entire evening was which I was going to use.

I still didn't know when Edward was to return, and it looked like it would take awhile to fill the boat bath completely, so I opted for a shower. I looked inside to see lavender and freesia body wash and matching hair products.

I smiled, shook my head, and grabbed a towel.

To say the shower was exquisite would be an understatement. I felt immeasurably better after stepping out then stepping in. In those short minutes, I did my best to shed the awkward, insecure Bella I'd always been and become the confident woman worthy of Edward's… affections.

I stood in front of the full length mirror, watching the steam rise off my dampened skin, my brown hair blackened in long waves falling from my shoulders. I wanted to be proud of my slopes and curves and tried not to worry if Edward preferred… _other_.

I picked up his blue button-up shirt and put it over my shoulders, buttoning a few buttons before going to retrieve my underpants. It didn't seem right, after showering, to put them back on. I went back into the bedroom closet to look for a pair of boxer shorts or something to cover my lower half for the time being.

Sure enough, in a top drawer there were boxer briefs and some cotton boxer shorts. I pulled out a pair and bent low to pull them on. I rolled the waistband a few times out of necessity. I giggled at the thought that if I had a pair of Ray Bans and tube socks that I might look like a certain someone from `Risky Business`.

That thought didn't have much time to take purchase in my mind.

"Bella," he breathed.

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**A/N: **Hope it was worth the wait! Let me know in your review!


	19. Chapter 19: Comes and Goes In Waves

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**This chapter is intended for a mature audience.**

* * *

I turned around quickly, too quickly. He was standing in the doorway to the bedroom, his hands grasping tightly to the doorframe. Once again, he was staring at me as if he could devour me with his eyes alone. And for the first time since I had discovered and realized that he would not, could not harm me – I felt fear.

I could only recall the fear of losing someone one other time in my life. Whatever happened tonight, I could not lose Edward. I would do whatever it takes. And that knowledge terrified and empowered me at the same time.

Reminiscent of so many other pressure-filled occasions, I started to ramble as he slowly made his way towards me. "I'm… I'm sorry. I wanted to wear something… clean… so I went through your closet." I dumbly gestured to the closet just behind me, as if there were more than one closet I could possibly be referring to.

He dropped his chin and continued to stalk towards me, a crooked smile touching his lips, his eyebrow cocked. "It's alright Bella, I told you to make yourself at home." He stopped in front of me, just out of reach. His eyes trailed down my form, appraising. "I rather like it. Well done."

I looked down at the light blue button-up and boxer shorts, smiling awkwardly as I looked back up at him.

"Even if they are my father's clothes," he added, not even trying to hide his mischievous smirk.

"Ohmygod." I looked back down, reaching for the shirts' buttons. As if taking off the clothes would make this ghastly mistake disappear.

His cool hands clasped my wrists. "I was only kidding. They aren't Carlisle's clothes, they're mine."

Inexplicably, tears filled my eyes. His smile faded and he closed the space between us, wrapping me in his arms.

"Bella, please stop. We don't have to do this. Heaven knows how much I want to, but it doesn't have to be now, not if you're apprehensive..."

"I'm just so nervous Edward," I said into his shirt, shaking my head. "My heart is pounding and I feel like it might burst."

"I know… what you mean. Would it make you feel better to know that I'm anxious too?" I nodded as I pushed unproductive thoughts out of my head. He really had no reason to be nervous with me. I was just… me. He was… _other_.

"We haven't talked about protection," I blurted, surprising even myself. I need to find a filter for my thoughts. And quick. But once the words were spoken, I was alternately glad and wary.

Edward took a small step back, grasping both my hands and placing his cool forehead on mine. "I haven't been with anyone since… her. I am certain I don't have anything…"

Again, I became sad at his inference of _them_ before us. I was sad for the loss that resulted in my gain. And I was shocked that this beautiful man standing before me, who seemingly wanted nothing more than to be with me now, had not been with anyone since _her_.

I was glad that I could not look directly into his eyes as I began to confess. "I have had a few… partners, always… protected," I tried swallowing discreetly, failing miserably. "And don't worry about unplanned… pregnancy."

His hands slid up my arms and cupped my jaw, gently pulling my chin upwards to look him in the eyes. They were no longer dark red, as before, but a gently swirling mixture of something burgundy and gold. Striking.

"What do you mean, Bella?"

I had never planned to reveal to anyone what I was about to acknowledge, without being asked directly. The question hung in the air heavily and settled into my lungs. In fact, this was the first time I'd admit it out loud to anyone, ever:

"I cannot have children."

I had made my peace with that fact many years before. That is until I saw the look on Edward's face. There was a slight contortion to it, as if he would've liked to shed tears but had turned off the ducts. He fell to his knees, holding me about the thighs, his ear pressed just below my belly button. Where my uterus should be, if I had one.

I wasn't sure what to think, so I gave him time. I didn't know how to comfort him, or if it was even comfort he wanted. Maybe he was relieved. After a few moments he whispered, "The last," and turned his face towards my stomach, leaving the ghost of a kiss on my laparoscopic scar.

His chin caught the edge of my waistband and he slowly started a trail of kisses that pulled my boxer shorts down a few inches. A breath caught in my throat as I grabbed the nearest thing I could get my hands on. I grasped his shoulder with one hand and unintentionally slapped the wall nearest me with the other, accidentally turning on the automatic fireplaces. I fumbled around, trying to correct my mistake.

"Leave it," He growled against me. His cold breath nearly unraveled me, understanding now why he wanted to keep the fireplaces on.

I had never had any man go down on me before and was concerned about my ability to stay upright. He must've sensed my wavering as well. One of his arms remained secure around my thigh as he guided me to lean against the wall that I'd forgotten was just inches behind me already.

His other arm coaxed its way between my legs. He looked up at me, beseeching. I should've been embarrassed that I was staring at him so blatantly. But I didn't want to miss anything that transpired between us. Of that, I was not ashamed.

I shifted my weight to the supported leg as he lifted the other over his shoulder. I shuddered without volition as his exhalations easily permeated the thin fabric of the shorts. His chin pressed a rough line down my center, sending fire through my system.

He reached for my wrist and held it firmly beside me. His other hand began a slow trip up the cuff of my boxer shorts and I gasped. It was one thing to have his mouth over my shorts but another thing entirely where his nimble fingers were concerned.

With the lightest of pressure, he grabbed my bottom and squeezed. I looked down at him once more, his nose wrinkled into a laugh as he caught my eye and winked. He wanted me to relax and I was trying my damnedest to comply. It was so difficult to maintain any sort of composure when I was already so close to the edge.

His fingertips made a path from my ass toward the juncture of my thighs. The shadow of his touch surpassed any other sensation I may have thought was good in my entire life. I had to beg my body to stop trembling so much, a request that was easily denied. Edward would certainly know by now how much I wanted this as his fingers found the consequence of his contact.

I moved my hand from his shoulder to his hair for the briefest of moments before changing my mind. I didn't want Edward to get the impression that I was holding him there, so I let the hand trail to my stomach and up under the shirt I was wearing.

All movement stopped as he watched me, captivated. As my hand made to cup my breast, he snarled into me, making me shudder yet again. He removed his hand from under my shorts and released my wrist, shrugging the shoulder that supported my leg and very slowly stood up, never taking his eyes off the partially-concealed hand that still rested on the underside of my breast.

He stepped back, appraising me again. It took a few moments of self-stabilization, but this time it was me who stepped forward. I released myself and grabbed the edge of his black t-shirt, trailing my hands up his ribs, feeling the musculature of his back as I pulled it over his head.

Edward's chest was pale and magnificent and begged to be touched. It was my turn to stare unabashedly, evaluating him as he had me. My eyes stopped abruptly on a star shaped-scar on his shoulder. My brow furrowed as I walked slowly around his back, where a discolored circle blemished his otherwise perfect back.

With his head bowed, he mumbled, "It was an accident. No harm done." I kissed the spot on his back, quickly removed the sagging boxer shorts, and then moved around to face him again. I kissed the mark on his upper torso.

I placed both my hands on his chest and gently began to push him towards the bed. It was then that he noticed that my boxer shorts were gone. His eyes snapped to mine, pleading without words.

I stopped then. If he didn't want this, I wasn't going to force him. I thought he wanted this too…

I didn't have to wait long for a confirmation. By the light of the dual fireplaces, I could see his white fingers began to unclasp his belt and unbutton his black jeans. He paused, holding out his arms for me. I went to him without hesitation, circling his neck with my arms.

Lowly, so lowly, he whispered, "There is only one path left for us and this is just the first step. This is a journey that neither of us can return from unscathed. Understood?"

I nodded my head. The walls I had built could not protect me now. This was not just about sex anymore. This was more. And I did understand.

I let go of his neck and looked in his eyes so he would know that I accepted his unwritten treatise. My hands reached for his hips, sliding my fingers into his belt loops and my thumbs under the waistband of his jeans, catching what was underneath. I slowly began to lower myself and his jeans simultaneously as I continued to look in his eyes.

He had done it for me.

I would do it for him.

But a frown on his face made me hesitant. He allowed me to finish removing his jeans, but that was all. He reached down for me, grasping my hands and lifting me off my knees. I glanced at him on the way up and found myself salivating.

Edward held me tightly then and whispered in my ear, "I would very much like that one day, but today is not that day." Again, I nodded. I don't think I could've found my voice if I'd wanted to.

He stepped backwards and sat on the end of the bed. Remembering what he'd done earlier, I dropped my chin and stalked towards him, unbuttoning two of the remaining three buttons on the shirt. "If you prefer, there are condoms in the back pocket of my jeans…" He began to say as he watched me very intensely.

I shook my head and cleared my throat. "Do you prefer?" I asked. He also shook his head.

I straddled his thighs, seated close enough to feel his length between us. He leaned towards me, biting off the remaining button of my shirt, then turned his head and spit it across the room. Edward splayed one hand on the small of my back and the other hand over my heart, causing my shirt to fall open.

I moved my hands from his shoulders to the collar of my shirt, opening it fully and letting it fall down my arms. His free hand grabbed the shirt before it fell from my wrists, tightening it into a light knot and tucking it under his forearm, loosely restraining me.

My back began to arch automatically as he leaned forward, caressing my chest and collarbone with chilled kisses. His hand lowered between us and I felt his thumb touch my exposed sensitivity directly. It was a good thing he was holding onto me so tightly or I would've toppled backwards onto the floor.

When I was alone, this is what I would do to find release. Now that Edward was performing these ministrations for me, I was finding something both transcendental and anchoring at the same time. My eyes opened, seeing the same stars as when my eyes were closed.

As the waves washed over me more slowly, and with less intensity, Edward released my light restraint. We were now fully bare before the other, unfettered.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. I lowered my mouth to his and tasted him, thanking him with actions rather than words. Proper verbalizations would fail me now anyway. There was no other suitable way to convey my feelings than through actions.

I opened my eyes to realize that Edward's eyes had never closed the whole time we were kissing. "Edward?" I managed, hoping that he wasn't changing his mind or going to try to convince me to change mine.

Meeting my eye and holding my gaze he shook his head slowly, warning: "No turning back Bella."

I bent my knees, bringing the tops of my feet to rest on his thighs and raised myself over him, brushing his face with my breast. I took one hand from his neck and placed it between us, adjusting his angle.

Slowly, so slowly, I settled around him.

There was no frantic thrusting or grabbing or tugging. There was only accommodating. There was awakening to a new familiarity. There was acceptance of a new reality.

His cold arms surrounded me, offering support. He was not trying to control anything, which was so much more meaningful than he could imagine. I had a chance to revel in my perceived power.

I was only slightly worried that I wouldn't be able to accommodate all of him but I was excited at the prospect of trying. The furrow in his brow gave away that he was just as worried as I was. I allowed a smile to spread across my face, which prompted one from him as well.

Edward shifted us back on the bed more and pulled me down with him as his back rested on the bed. He took my jaw in one hand and kissed me tenderly, running a free hand through my still-damp hair.

My chest rested on his. My already sensitive nipples were on fire, soothed only by his cold chest. It was time for the true test, and we both knew it. He held onto me a bit longer before I pulled away slightly.

I lowered my pelvis as I sat up straight, slowly seating myself on him fully. My mouth fell open and I gasped, a single tear fell from the outer corner of my eye.

This was home. I was home. Not because he was inside of me physically, because he was inside of me completely.

He was right, there _was_ no turning back.

I was wrong, there was no… _other_.

Edward grabbed my waist, not allowing me to go any further. "Bella, you're crying. Have I hurt you? Do we need to stop? Talk to me. Please. I can't read your thoughts."

Stars were forming in my eyes again, and I smiled, not bothering to wipe away the tear. "Edward, I feel perfect, whole. I'm fine."

I placed my hands on his chest and began moving slowly, languidly. Not fast enough to please him and as I began to force a quicker pace, he placed his hands on my hips, slowing me. "Not for me yet. For you," he breathed.

I nodded my understanding and slowed. With his hands still on my hips, he began a slow tug and push, never fully unseating me. This was something delicious and new and I wanted more. I took over the sliding motions as his hands traveled up my sides to my breasts, alternating playful teasing and the most gentle of caresses.

I was willfully drowning as another wave crashed.

I had been utterly ruined. And couldn't care less, either.

Too soon, a veil of exhaustion fell over me. I was becoming dizzy and couldn't tell if it was from the gentle rocking of the boat or my own exertion. It didn't take long for Edward to sense it as well. I fell forward onto his chest, cooling myself instantly.

"Can I take it from here?" Edward requested with a smile on his face. I smiled back and nodded into his chest, while gathering and twisting my wild hair. "Hold onto my neck, if you can." I did as he requested and squealed as he flipped us over. I was now on my back with my head very nearly hanging off the foot of the bed.

The smile faded from my face as I looked at his. His eyes were serious. Play time was over. We were adults now, about to embark on a very adult journey. He hovered mere inches above, slipping from within me. I ached from his absence, almost as much as I ached for him to say something. Say anything.

Thankfully, I didn't have to wait long.

"When the evening shadows and the stars appear and there is no one there to dry your tears, I could hold you for a million years." I gasped as I realized the lyrics Edward was speaking and the implications of them. He continued, never breaking eye contact. "I know you haven't made your mind up yet, but I would never do you wrong. I've known it from the moment that we met, no doubt in my mind where you belong."

Edward took one hand and slowly, deliberately positioned himself to enter me once more before completing his thoughts. "I could make you happy, make your dreams come true. Nothing that I wouldn't do. Go to the ends of the earth for you, to make you feel my love."

That was what this was. And that was what this would continue to be. Edward knew what love was, and this was just one of the many ways he'd already shown me.

He filled me then, gazing once more into my eyes before gathering himself up at the knees. He reached forward, placing his forearm at the small of my back and pulling up, creating an arch in me that I would've never been able to do on my own.

Edward's rhythm quickened as did our breathing. He placed his other hand in the shallow valley between my breasts, pressing down lightly on my heart. I swiftly became undone again, but held onto it as best I could. Somehow, he could tell.

"Just let go, Bella. Please."

"I love you."

And the wave crashed over us both.

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**A/N: **Thank you **KaeEllBlue **and **khrystene73 **for holding my shaking, sweaty hand through this.

**NotEventheTrees**, your kind, supportive words were exactly what I needed to hear as I struggled. I heart you.


	20. Chapter 20: A Rush of Blood to the Head

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Dreams. Blissful dreams accompanied by sweet words and the lightest of touches. I was wrapped in something soft and wonderful and warm. Sometimes too warm, and then a ghostly cool would refresh me, causing me to burrow into the warm again. Like the cool side of a pillow, without ever having to turn it over.

In my haze, I tried recalling the sweet words spoken. I could've imagined the declarations exchanged that included the word 'love', but those were the most clear, the most often repeated. I sighed. Yawned. Stretched. Curled. And fell again into gentle oblivion.

xoxox

I awoke to the sound of waves knocking on the side of the houseboat. It was morning and a kind luminance filtered through the high windows of the bedroom. I stretched and smiled, recalling the events of the night before. I made a snow angel in the sheets, fumbling and reaching for Edward, but not finding him.

I was alone in the room, I recognized with great chagrin. I sat up quickly when I felt the boat knock and settle against something. I realized then that I was still completely naked. I pulled the sheet up to my chin with one hand as I tried to tame my haystack of hair with the other. "Edward?" I croaked.

Edward walked down the spiral staircase from the upper deck and walked into the bedroom. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans. I had a flash of memory, recalling what he looked like with _nothing_ on. Damn. If it was that good in my memory, I couldn't wait for it to happen again in reality.

"Good morning Bella." The words sounded even better than my imagination dared to allow. Again, _damn_. "How are you feeling? You slept well." As he spoke these words he approached the bed, crawling over it towards me, straddling my thighs.

A considerable smile lit my face as he drew nearer until I realized that I still had a sour mouth. I pulled the sheet up to partially cover my face. I shook my head in objection as he made to kiss me. "Morning breath," I protested into the sheet, still smiling.

He did not hesitate in his approach, kissing the Egyptian cotton that covered my mouth and effectively coaxing me back onto the pillow. Ever playful, he took the soft material in his teeth and dragged it down and out of my grasp, ripping it easily in the process. I giggled, clamping my hands over my mouth. He hovered over me, washing my skin with his cool breath, making my nipples set and gooseflesh of the rest of my torso.

He smiled for a brief moment, coy and mischievous. As quickly as it appeared, the smile faded. My brow furrowed, wondering what had just occurred to make him hesitate. "Edward?" I asked into my hand.

"We've just arrived in Seattle. I need to settle something with the captain and harbormaster upstairs. Unfortunately, you won't have much warm water until the fixtures are in place."

I frowned, disbelieving. Was there anything Edward was incapable of? He actually _moved _the houseboat from Port Angeles to Seattle while I was sleeping? These questions reminded me, regrettably, that it was in fact tomorrow, and that questions were unavoidable any longer.

"Sure," I mumbled, dropping my hand. I felt silly for covering my mouth when things obviously weren't silly anymore.

"Your bag is in the bathroom. Help yourself to whatever you need." He waved his hand towards the closet before turning towards me and capturing my mouth in a kiss. I tried, in vain, to push him away. "They're here," he said as he pulled away and went towards the spiral staircase, taking one long look back at me. "I love you."

I looked back at him, watching him disappear up the stairs and whispered "I love you," into the air that he had just occupied. I knew in my heart of hearts that there was something different about him, something special and potentially terrifying. But telling Edward I loved him the night before solidified my decision to stick by him, no matter what his answers revealed.

_He loves me, and I love him and I will see it through. _

I slid out of the bed, picking up Edward's discarded black t-shirt from the night before. I held it to my nose, inhaling his scent as I walked into the closet. I looked up to where the small box labeled with my name was, seeing that it was now missing. I frowned momentarily before wondering if Edward had pulled it down to add something to it, something to remember the night by. I couldn't help but smile at that thought.

_Who was I kidding?_ If I was at home, I'd have an 'Edward' shoebox and I'd be stuffing it right about now.

I prepared for the day by taking a quick shower. I was used to taking brief showers as Eric didn't know how to and subsequently took all the hot water. I stepped out, realizing sadly that the scent that had been infused on my skin was no longer there. Not wanting to be without his aroma, I opted to wear his shirt from the day before. I was making myself at home, justifying my actions to no one at all.

I glanced in his study, knowing that many of the questions I had could be answered by its contents. But I wanted the answers from Edward himself first.

I had a harder time going up the stairs than I had going down them the night before. The houseboat was swaying gently, and I found out just why as I came up the stairs. It was raining lightly outside but the wind was not so gentle.

I looked in the kitchen, finding Edward squeezing the juice from an orange. The action made the shape of his triceps sharpen in relief to his white shirt. I never thought seeing someone make fresh-squeezed orange juice could be so… delicious. I walked up behind him, snaking my arms around his waist and kissing one of those triceps, trying my best to keep my tongue from tasting him.

"I'm making you orange juice because it's the only thing I probably would not mess up," Edward confessed, looking over his shoulder at me. "I don't cook at all."

"Toast?" I inquired, feeling that I should have something of substance in my stomach but nothing with too much flavor.

"I can manage toast," he responded.

"It's good to see that there is at least _one _thing you can't do that I can," I teased. He matched my smile, but his was a bit bemused. "Would you like me to make you something?" I offered.

"No thank you. I'm still full from last night."

I walked towards the dining table, looking out the glass front of the houseboat. Sure enough, we were in rainy Seattle, obviously tethered at the Lake Union dock. The most expensive dock in Seattle, where the most expensive houseboats were moored. There were permanent residences on either side. I looked to the dock, and saw my old Chevy truck parked next to his shiny silver Volvo. I shook my head, incredulous once more.

It did not escape Edward's notice. He looked at me warily as he brought over my toast and orange juice with ice cubes. He sat them both on my placemat, and went to take a seat opposite me. Before he could move any further, I put my hand in his, preventing him from creating any additional divide.

_He __loves me, and I love him__ and I will see it through. _

"We need to talk," I said, trying to keep a cap on my bubbling emotion. We looked at each other, knowing without words what the other needed – reassurance. I tilted my head back as he leaned down to kiss me, his hand on my neck. It was a gentle kiss, only slightly urgent, yet full of comfort. Neither of us wanted to start anything more physically. It was time to talk.

Still holding my hand, Edward sat across from me. We each looked at the other for awhile, until he looked at my untouched plate and glass then back up at me. I shook my head, indicating that I wasn't hungry.

"You eat, I'll talk," he suggested. I complied, drinking a bit of the juice before taking a bite of the toast. I loved ice cold orange juice. I wondered if he knew that or if it was mere coincidence. I wouldn't be surprised if he somehow did know it. He seemed to know things about me I didn't know myself.

"Okay, talk," I instructed.

"There are some things you must understand about me Bella. First, and most important, I have loved you—even the idea of you—for a very long time. After she passed away, I took the image of that love and heightened it to a point I thought unreachable. Until you. Now you're here with me, I _cannot_ lose you." I raised my eyebrows, poised to interrupt. His free hand raised a finger, requesting the chance to continue.

"Second, I am fiercely protective of what I love. I would never—no, _could_ never—harm you. I will always take every precaution necessary to ensure that scenario never takes place. That being said, I have tendencies of a violent nature when there is the slightest threat perceived, or when provoked by others." I gulped harder and louder than even I thought possible. But this was not news to me, I'd seen it already. He was verbalizing the truth, no matter the consequences.

_He loves me, and I love__ him and I will see it through. _

"Third, family is very important to me. After losing my parents, my adoptive family became the most important thing in my life. They have sustained and nurtured me, and even when I stray, they welcome me back like the prodigal son. I do apologize you haven't met them yet, and I will remedy that very soon. They are all looking forward to meeting you in person."

I chanced an interruption. "How big is your family?" I asked.

"You know about my younger sister Alice, who is married to Jasper. My older brother Emmett is married to Rosalie. My mother's name is Esme and my father is…"

"Carlisle," I grinned, recalling what Edward had said the night before, suggesting that I was wearing his clothes instead of Edward's. He smiled with me, squeezing my hand in an affectionate gesture. He waited for me to take another sip of juice and bite of toast before continuing. He took a deep breath, dropping his chin and focusing on me. I attempted to steel myself in response to his changed demeanor.

"The family I speak of—the family I love and protect—extends beyond my adopted family." He paused to take a deep breath before continuing. "Well, it extends to _your_ family. Bella, when I told you that I knew of Charlie when I lived in the area all those years ago, that was not the whole truth. The part I omitted was that he and I shared several conversations over the years. We understood each other. He was hesitant for me to know you, which I understood and agreed to. That did not mean that I was not still curious about you. I stayed out of sight, per his wishes."

The blood rushed from my face. I wanted to interrupt with a question. I wanted him to shut up. Edward _knew_ Charlie? Enough to consider him family? Why? When? I quickly became lightheaded. He just kept on speaking, fearing that if he even paused then he would stop talking altogether.

"Fourth—and this might be the hardest for you to accept—I have… abilities… that surpass those of others. My adoptive family has been afflicted with these… abilities… as well. I have not always had them. There was a time I could go into the sunlight without attracting attention. I didn't always have a bloodlust or feel such a need for vengeance. I was a normal man, with a normal love, living a normal life, expecting a normal death…"

Suddenly I was beginning to hear a high-pitched keen of sorts in my ears, a rush of blood to the head. The room continued to spin. Edward kept on talking and I just was not absorbing his words. They were nonsensical. Why would he say such absurd things? Why should I believe him?

Wait.

Why _shouldn't _I?

Edward had promised once that he would never lie to me, that he wanted me to trust him completely. Needing this to be true and not a part of some elaborate game, I clung tight to this one fact, the anchor in the midst of the clatter in my head. But, I kept right on spinning, kept right on sinking.

"Bella!" he shouted, snapping me out of my trance. "Eat something, please." I don't know when he moved them, but his fingers were now wrapped soothingly around my wrist instead of holding my hand. He was standing beside me, his other hand on the back of my neck. I looked up at him, wondering what to make of it all.

"I've said too much at once, I know that now. Forgive me. You will know all of it, in time. I only ask you to remember that I love you. Then, now, and most importantly of all—forever."

_He loves me, and I love__ him and I will see it through. _

I allowed him to slowly massage my neck as I calmed down. Questions began to surface in my subconscious: things that I needed to know requiring answers I wasn't sure I could handle anymore.

"May I ask you some questions?" I inquired weakly. He nodded apprehensively, and glanced at my half-eaten toast and juice. He took his place across from me again and watched as I finished my breakfast. I reached for his hand before beginning.

"Why did you follow me here, to Seattle?"

"Because I told you that Seattle was no longer safe. And now that I've found you again, I can never let you out of my sight." He spoke matter-of-factly, without hesitation or trace of irony.

"What do you mean by 'find me _again_'?" I asked. "Does that mean we've already met?" Scenes began flashing in my mind. A piece of the puzzle fell into place. "That _was_ you, wasn't it? In the tree across the street, in the pouring rain on the same night that Charlie died?" I swallowed, not sure if I wanted to hear his confirmation of what I suddenly, undoubtedly knew to be true.

"Yes." Absolute.

Irrationally, I became angry. "If you knew me then, why did you do nothing while Jacob mistreated me, especially that night?" As Edward placed his head in his hands, I knew I had to take it back. "That was so very unfair of me," I whispered and cleared my throat before owning my mistake in a louder voice, "Edward, I'm so sorry…"

"Bella, if you knew what I went through that night, not being able to comfort you. During the year that you were with him and then the years that I'd believed I'd lost you…" He too, became angry, but his anger was not directed at me. "You will _never_ know, and I will _never_ tell you. But I will say this: Jacob Black only had a fraction of the chances to harm you than you realize. Charlie told me not to interfere with you, but he said nothing about hindering Jacob. That boy is very thick-headed."

"That was you yesterday, wasn't it?" I realized suddenly, another piece falling into place. "You were in Forks with me." He nodded, his head still down. It was Edward who knocked Jacob to the ground. "But why didn't you tell me where you were, when I texted you about the letters?"

"I didn't want to interfere with your grieving process, and the sun was out yesterday." He paused, his eyes darkening and hand shaking slightly. "But I had all I could stand when Jacob came after you. It was because of me that he was driving erratically and subsequently questioned by the authorities. When I got back to Forks, you were gone. I went to Port Angeles because I figured you'd head in the opposite direction from La Push as quickly as you could. I was so relieved when I found you at One Eyed Pete's."

At the mention of the bar, I suddenly remembered what I was actually here in Seattle for, and I felt an urgent guilt. I wasn't supposed to be here for me, even for Edward. I was supposed to be here for Angela, Ben and baby Maggie.

"Edward," I said, weakly. "Where will you be tonight?"

"I will be wherever you want me to be. If you want me to be here, I will be here, at the houseboat. If you want me to go with you, I will go until the sun comes out this afternoon." He paused then only to speak again in a much lower voice. "If you ask me to go home, then I will be wherever you are. Because you _are_ home to me."

Even though there were still so many questions and pieces I couldn't fit together, something about him at that moment made me want to lean across the table and kiss him. Kiss away his worries and fear that I would send him away. No matter what he told me I could never send him away.

However, I knew distance and perspective were needed. I knew this, my rational head tried reasoning, but my heart also knew that I did not want Edward to think that I was put off by what he was saying. He was being honest with me. But I was having a hard time reconciling that. He knew this, and did not persist.

_He __loves me, and I love him__ and I will see it through. _

"There was a box in your closet with my name on it. It was there last night, but it's gone now."

"Yes, that's true. I decided that a box of memories is unnecessary now that I have you."

I got up from the table with my plate and glass, and wobbled a bit. Before I had an opportunity to even teeter any longer, Edward was standing beside me, holding me about the waist. I kissed him lightly on the lips before pulling away and making my way to the kitchen. I cleaned the counter and my dishes, all the while feeling his presence behind me.

Never far.

Never close enough.

He spoke quietly. "Your father once told me that he'd written a letter. You were to read it should anything happen to him. I assume it explains more about our unique… dynamic. He never told me where he hid it but he always said you would know what he was most proud of." I nodded, thinking of what those objects might be.

Charlie approved of Edward without even having to say so. If he was worried that Edward would hurt me, then he never would've told Edward there was a letter for me. I'd heard my father's voice in my head more in these past few months than in all the years he'd been gone. But I needed to know that letter existed and read it to be certain.

I turned to Edward then, lifted myself as high as I could reach and kissed him. It was the same kiss from our first date. Soft, sweet, full of longing. He lifted me onto the counter top and my legs wrapped around his waist. I couldn't pass up an opportunity to run my fingers through his silken hair. Neither of us pulled away until I was out of breath.

"Can I ask a favor Edward?" I panted.

"Anything," He said into my neck.

"I would like to spend the day with Angela. It is her last day at the hospital. They will be discharged tonight. Could you…" I hesitated.

"Yes?"

"Could you go back to Forks and try to find the letter from Charlie for me? I'm sure it is hidden in one of his trophies or behind one of his awards. That's what he'd be most proud of." My voice trailed off as Edward shook his head solemnly. "You can't because of the sun?"

"It's not that. I just… I can't be that far away from you again. I hope, in time, you'll understand. How do you feel about going back to Forks tonight, together? It will be under the cover of night. You can sleep while I drive."

Going back to Forks alone was unconscionable. Going back with Edward made the idea a little more palatable. "I really like that idea. I wasn't planning on going back at all but having you with me would make me feel so much better. When will you sleep?"

"I don't sleep, Bella."

"Ever?"

"Never."

I can't begin to comprehend what's he's trying to tell me. He doesn't sleep? I added this bit of information to the "accept and move along" box I just started in my mind and reminded myself:

_He __loves me,  
and I love__ him  
__and I _will_ see it through. _

_

* * *

_**A/N: **Happy anniversary **NotEventheTrees**. It's been six months today since the first chapter of MHWY post. And if it weren't for your patient encouragement and friendship, we wouldn't be where we are today.


	21. Chapter 21: When Your Mind's Made Up

Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Happy anniversary,** NotEventheTrees**. It was one year ago today that I started searching for a beta using the keyword "trees". You replied eagerly and have been my greatest supporter. Although our dynamic has changed, my gratitude has only grown. You are now a true friend and I'm so proud of what you've accomplished.

* * *

…_I _will_ see it through._

I was still seated on the kitchen counter, my limbs wrapped around Edward, kissing him as if my life depended on it. I could easily be distracted by his hands and mouth. I resisted the urge to shift against him, but just barely. I needed to focus and this tomfoolery would not help in the least.

I decided to take action because Edward would've just kept on with his effectively delicious distraction tactics.

"I need a knife," I said suddenly into his slightly open mouth. He pulled away instantly, his body stiff, and frowned.

"Pardon?"

I wiggled against him, too focused now to feel the friction, as I tried to get off the counter. He helped me down, eying me warily the whole time.

"And a bag of produce. Any produce. Onions, tomatoes, potatoes, whatever. I need produce and a knife. Apron? Do you have an apron? A towel will work too. And a cutting board." I was rambling but he couldn't argue with the urgency in my voice. I knew exactly what I'd need to gather my thoughts and clear my head.

I needed to chop produce.

Edward was still staring at me unmoving, so I turned around and started going through drawers, finally finding a brand new knife still held captive in its original plastic. I found an unused honing steel and handed them both to Edward, whose look of alarm still framed his face. He looked like he might bolt out the door or pounce on top of me, I couldn't be sure which.

"Bella?"

I realized quickly how crazy I must look after shoving the packaged knife into his hands and demanding produce. I couldn't help but laugh the kind of laugh that didn't do much to disprove the maniac theory. "I do my best thinking while I am prepping produce. Do you have any bags of perishables that I might hack up? Oh, and could you open the knife? You're stronger than me." I looked at him impatiently, my hands on my hips, toe tapping on the hardwood floor.

Not wanting to wait for him to help, I opened the refrigerator and I pulled the basket of fruits and vegetables out as he easily opened the knife and steel. He set them on the counter very carefully and stepped away slowly. I kept rummaging until I found a drawer of kitchen linens and pulled a towel out to wrap around my waist. Without having to ask, his hands found the edge of the towel and tied it securely at my back.

As I washed my hands, he found a cutting board and several bags of produce in a pantry that I'd overlooked. The kitchen seemed to be stocked for more than an overnight trip.

My eyes lit up as I saw the produce. "Can I have it?" I asked, arms already reaching out to take it from him. Hopefully I wouldn't go through all of it, but I didn't think Edward would mind too much if I shared with a soup kitchen.

"Whatever you need," he replied, as if he was afraid to tell me no. He eyed me cautiously as I began to sharpen the knife. I noticed then how much the boat was swaying. I leaned back on the counter for support and continued sliding the steel up and down the length of the blade. This was just as helpful at calming me as having Edward hold my wrists, but didn't leave me with the same sensation. "What do you need from me?" Edward asked.

I paused for a second, touched that he would even ask while simultaneously postulating that I could be going crazy. However, this was a solitary chore for me. I don't think anyone had watched me chop produce since culinary school and I was not exactly excited about the possibility of it now. Bad things happen with knives when you're scrutinized too heavily. "Would you like to play a song for me?" I suggested as I waved the knife towards the impromptu recording studio that was also the living room. "If you could stay close so I can ask questions as they crop up, that'd be nice too."

"Certainly." Edward was staring at the sharpened blade I just finished waving in the air.

I followed his gaze. "Don't worry Edward, I won't hurt myself. I haven't cut myself since—"

"Monday."

"How do you know that I cut myself on Monday?" I asked him skeptically. Would I ever cease to be amazed at what he knew?

"I noticed your finger had a cut on it last night. It wasn't there when we went on our date. I deduced that it happened while you were at work."

"But I chopped food at Angela and Ben's day before yesterday. How do you know that I didn't cut it then Sherlock?"

"Because of the age of the wound." He says this like it's the simplest and most obvious thing in the world.

"Is that a doctor thing?"

"It's an instinct thing."

"What would happen if I cut myself in front of you Edward?" I asked, half-serious and half-joking. "You know, I haven't heard of many doctors that are afraid of blood."

"Not all blood. Just… yours. Just… promise to be careful and we won't have to test those waters."

After all the peculiar things he's said, I left this one alone. I shrugged, complying. He just didn't want me to hurt myself.

He took a seat at his piano, and watched me as I began slicing the delicate fruits into a large glass bowl. Edward had a journal open on the piano, jotting things down with a mechanical pencil oddly similar to Charlie's as I began to layer the fruits in the bowl.

It didn't take long before I was in the zone and things were coming together for me like I'd hoped they would. I wanted to start from the beginning. What I knew as our beginning anyway.

"Edward, the first time I saw you we were at the airport in New York and I think you saw me and Eric. What did you say when you climbed into the ambulance? Eric swears you said something to me."

He did not look up from the piano to respond. "I said, 'She lives'."

I looked up at him, mid-chop. "You thought I died? Why did you think I had died?"

"Because I had been told as much. But I refused to believe it until I saw your body or at the very least, a headstone."

"Who cares if I'm dead or not?" I spat out, incredulous. Edward's eyes locked on mine and I couldn't take the words back fast enough. "I didn't mean it… like that… I meant… who, besides friends and family, would tell you that I was dead?"

"Those who would want to use that information against me."

I had a sudden revelation. He had said that he refused to believe I was dead unless… "Edward, what do white peonies represent?"

"Forgiveness. And healing."

"So you had someone check on Charlie's grave to see if my body had been buried near his?" I asked, utterly dumbfounded.

"Every day for the last three years."

I chopped slowly now, making perfectly square small strawberry cubes, feeling I was onto something and not wanting to lose the path. "Wait, Charlie's been gone for four years, Edward."

"Yes, but I knew you were safe that year in Europe. When you came back to the United States, I lost you."

"I was trying to fly under the radar. You know, fall off the face of the earth."

"And so you did. Bella?" I meet his worried eyes. "Could you please watch what you're chopping?" I could help but let out a genuine laugh.

I was halfway through my fruit salad when I decided I wanted something heavier to chop. I pulled out the bag of potatoes and began scrubbing them. Hard. I needed to backtrack a bit and retain my earlier line of questioning.

I began thinly slicing the potatoes into round disks as I concentrated on the next time I'd seen him, at the bookstore. We had picked up the same book. Big deal, we talked about it already, we both had an interest in World War I books. He had looked at the nametag on my lanyard, and he'd obviously already known my name.

Then we sang together and he saved Charlie's guitar. "Edward, tell me about the night at the coffee shop. Did you know I was there? Did you know those two guys were going after Charlie's guitar?"

His shoulders slumped minutely, but I could still see it. "I moved to New York immediately after realizing that's where you lived. I had Seth follow you to your home to confirm it. You are a creature of habit, so it wasn't difficult to find out what times you worked and what nights you performed."

"And those two guys?" I pressed, shaking off the confession that he'd had me tailed. "Did you know them?"

"No. But I feel certain that they won't remember me."

"What does _that_ mean?" I wasn't really sure if I wanted to hear the answer.

"It means that I have powerful methods of persuasion. They gave me back Charlie's guitar, the ukulele, and your guitar. They won't remember where you live, what you look like or much of anything for that matter."

I stopped chopping and stared at him. I had seen this just the night before, with the thugs outside One Eyed Pete's. "Edward, you can't just do that to people! What about the police?"

He shrugged, a bit arrogant. "I'm not worried about your police."

"_My _police? You're not above the law. Unless you answer to higher authorities?" I didn't know why I became so sardonic, but I couldn't help myself all of a sudden. If he'd had such a reverence for Charlie, why would he be so flippant about other police?

"They think of themselves as higher authorities," he replied simply.

"'They' who Edward? Stop with the riddles, please."

"The people I work for—worked for," he corrected himself. "They are above mere human law."

"Human law? That doesn't make any sense. Do you, I mean did you, work for the mob or something?" That would explain the security on the houseboat.

"No, not the mob," he said with a note of finality.

I became frustrated. I would have to approach this line of questioning from another direction. Charlie taught me that. So I calmed myself as best I could before starting again. The potato sack was now empty and we had enough au gratin potato slices to feed an army. I skipped past the onions as I didn't want excessive tears and went for the tomatoes. They needed a softer touch and a gentler hand or I'd be making tomato sauce. I had no choice but to calm down.

The penguin habitat. We next saw each other at the penguin habitat. He followed Eric and me there, that much was certain. We talked about little of consequence, right? Except for the mating habits of penguins. That reminded me of something he'd said. "Edward, you corrected me when I said that penguins mate for life."

"Yes, I remember."

Apparently, I needed to lead the witness. "And you said that one species mates for life, but we got interrupted by a text from Eric or something."

"The text was from Angela," He corrected. I stood there waiting, not letting him off the hook. "Vampires. I started to say that vampires mate for life."

"Why would you say something like that?"

"Because it's true. Google it some time." I could sense that he was shutting down. I didn't know if I was scratching the surface or making blind stabs at truth, confusing myself even more. The concert he'd been playing turned from something melancholy to something a bit more than tempered.

I stayed quiet, thinking of our next encounter as I began washing my hands. It was our date. The concert, dinner, and the movie at Bryant Park. I didn't want to over-analyze our perfect date, but despite that there were questions that I still needed to ask. "When we played two truths and a lie, which of your statements were lies?" I whispered as I stared out the window at the clouds that threatened to permeate my very skin.

Edward was behind me in a flash, pinning me gently against the sink. "I've only ever lied to you once Bella," he breathed into my ear, distracting me. My concentration was almost completely dissolved in that instant.

"When?" I managed. "When did you lie to me?"

"Last night." He turned me around and cupped my jaw in his hands before kissing me in a successfully diversionary tactic. My wet arms hung loosely at my sides.

Reality surfaced for a moment and when his lips moved to my neck, I got a chance to speak. "Do you love me, or was that the lie?"

He shut his eyes tightly and shook his head. "If the world was based on one truth and one truth alone, it's that I love you. I know it's difficult for you to believe that now, but I will spend every moment of forever telling you and proving it to you however you might require."

Instead of being overjoyed at his declaration, I wanted to unlearn everything I'd just learned. If he hadn't lied during our date then all of those extraordinary things he'd said about himself were true.

I wanted to go back into my blissfully ignorant bubble.

I wanted to take everything back except the fact that I loved him.

But you can't turn back the hands of time.

_I love him__,__ and he loves me and I will see it through._

"There is more, isn't there?" I asked, sighing.

"Yes."

"Tell me."

"I've been taking care of Charlie's home, in the hopes that you would return to Forks alive. I tried purchasing the home on a number of occasions, only to have the bank tell me that they could not reach you, only your mother. I do not understand why you stayed away all those years. I have to assume it had something to do with Jacob Black."

"Yes," I replied. I felt his arms shaking against my torso, anger welling in him at the knowledge that Jacob was the reason for my absence.

"I knew exactly what he was thinking when the two of you were sitting on that porch, the things he would've tried to accomplish had he succeeded in getting you inside your house. I can read minds Bella. Yours is the only mind that is closed to me."

I began sobbing into his chest. He could read minds, except for mine? Then he knew Eric's thoughts, the night at the coffee shop. When Edward tapped his temple and said he had a sense about people, he was dead right. He knew how Charlie felt about me. He knew the inner workings of Jacob's mind and was told not to interfere by my own father, his friend.

It felt like the proverbial straw and camel's back scenario.

"Why did this happen to you?" I cried, finally at my breaking point.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered as he rubbed soothing circles on my neck, trying to ease my discomfort.

I cried harder still as he held me and ran his fingers through my hair. I eventually collapsed and he carried me from the kitchen to one of the studio couches. He knelt on the floor beside me, his fingertips always keeping contact with my skin.

"I want to make love to you again," he confessed.

My eyes opened to find him just there, within arms' reach. Sadness permeated his every beautiful feature. All I had to do was say yes and we could forget about everything for awhile. I could revel in him, and he in me. The magic of the previous evening could spill onto another day. But all I could manage to do was ask, "Why?"

"Because I don't want last night to be it. I may not be able to read your mind but I sense you pulling away. You are in the process of rebuilding your wall and trying to protect yourself, which you have every right to do.

"Let me tell you that there is no one in the world that could protect you like I can. Like I will continue to do every day of forever. Even if you push me away now, I will never be far. You could whisper my name from a hundred miles away and I would be by your side in an instant.

"But once you learn what I have brought upon you and your family, you may hate me. And it is a lot for me to ask you to continue to trust me after you learn exactly why."

Of course there was more to the story. I didn't have it all yet and I wasn't ready for more now. I was exhausted emotionally and physically. But I didn't want to tell him no, to reject him. And I could not, in good conscience, tell him yes. Even though I wanted to.

Oh, how I wanted to.

"Edward. Please. I… I… can't."

"Is it because you don't love… me…?"

I shot upright on the couch, startling both him and myself. "If you know anything about me Edward, you'll know that once I make a decision about something, I stick with it. My mind's made up. I've told you that I love you and I mean it.

"I am just trying desperately to process what you're saying and try to make sense of it all." This time it was him that went to interrupt but I continued, looking at him as sternly as I could manage but lowering my voice to a more even cadence. "I am not saying no, I am saying not now.

"I am here in Seattle for Angela, Maggie and Ben. I will go with you to Forks tonight, and we can continue this conversation on our drive." I placed my hand over his, comforting him as best I knew how. "Okay?"

"Yes."

"Will you… will you come with me to meet Angela and Maggie?"

Edward glanced over his shoulder to look at the cloud cover out the large glass front of the houseboat. "I will, but I won't be able to stay long unfortunately."

Before I could stop myself, I asked, "What happens to your skin when you're in the sunlight?"

"I'll show you sometime. I promise."

I nodded, knowing he meant it. I trusted that.

_I love him, and he loves me and I will see it through._


End file.
